


Not in the Storybooks

by lodgedinmythoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Insecurity, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mostly Fluff, Mutual Pining, these two idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-04-23 15:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14335902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodgedinmythoughts/pseuds/lodgedinmythoughts
Summary: It was the way of things, you supposed. You weren’t the girl Captain America was supposed to end up with. In the stories and history books, he ended up with someone as shining as him, someone glaringly beautiful and strong, someone who could stand next to him and about whom people could say, “That makes sense.” He was Steve Rogers and he could’ve had anyone he wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

You tried not to cast discreet glances over to the couch too much. It was difficult, though; you found yourself looking from your peripheral without any conscious thought. Whether you liked it or not, your eyes were drawn to the area where Steve sat with Sharon, the two sharing soft smiles with each other as they talked and sipped champagne.

The party was in full swing. It was long overdue—it had been weeks since Tony threw one, after all. This time, however, it wasn’t thrown under any guise of celebrating a successful mission or anything of the sort. It was simply a party for the sake of having one. You’d already mingled a bit, and now you sat at the bar by yourself—not including Natasha, who once again had taken to bartending for a while—though you liked to think it wasn’t as sad as it sounded. You weren’t very good at socializing with those you didn’t know, and as such, these parties weren’t exactly your bread and butter. You were getting a little better about it as party after party went by, but tonight, you were perfectly content with people-watching. There was an easy silence between you and Natasha as she cleaned and mixed drinks. That was one thing you appreciated about her: you two were alike in that you didn’t always feel the need to fill the silence with conversation.

You sipped from your glass as you lightly bobbed your foot to the music and surveyed the floor where guests were milling about. Some were laughing raucously, others were dancing tipsily. Overall, the atmosphere seemed to be merry. Then, of their own accord, your eyes flickered back to Steve and Sharon before you could stop them. They were laughing together, Steve looking down bashfully. You immediately pivoted in your seat to fully face the bar as though that would stop the pit of your stomach from roiling and toyed with your drink, eyes cast down.

“Meet anyone nice tonight?” Natasha’s voice brought your gaze back up. She moved closer from her position behind the bar and subtly raised an eyebrow.

“No,” you said, confused.

“No fellas worthy of taking home to meet your folks?” she said as she poured a drink.

You narrowed your eyes. She’d never brought up this subject at other parties. “What are you on about, Nat?”

She subtly gestured with her head without taking her eyes off her work. “There’s a guy who’s been eyeing you for a while, you know. Blue suit, your 5 o’clock.”

You froze, unsure of what to do.

She chuckled. “He’s not looking.”

With that as your cue, you turned as casually as you could and spotted the man, who stood laughing with Rhodey. You turned back around. “He’s actually pretty cute.”

“So go talk to him.”

“That was a noncommittal ‘he’s actually pretty cute.’”

“You can’t always expect the boys to come to you. Trust me on this.” She gave you a pointed look. The whole team was aware of her and Bruce's situation.

“I’m not looking for anything right now,” you said.

It was only partially true. No matter how much you wished you could move on from your silly crush on Steve, you weren’t exactly looking for anything if it wasn’t with the man himself. You were sad and pathetic and totally out of your league. There was no chance he saw you as anything other than a teammate, a colleague. You liked to think you were past your low self-esteem issues from your school days, but harboring a secret affection for Captain America himself was, if anything, the perfect occasion for your insecurities and self-doubt to creep back up. It also didn’t help matters that he seemed to be hitting it off spectacularly with Agent Carter. If he had a type, she was probably it.

You felt so silly for feeling jealous of her. You’d only ever greeted her as you passed each other in the hallway, but she seemed nothing but nice, and you’d heard stories that painted her as an admirable, competent agent. She was probably a lovely woman, perfect for Steve. They would probably go off and have perfect babies together.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be anything serious,” Natasha said. “Just make sure you’re on the same page.”

You sighed, ready to move on from the subject. “Thanks for the dating advice, but I told you, I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“Care to rethink that? Blue suit’s making his move,” she said in a low voice.

“Wha—”

“Hey,” a voice next to you said. “Uh, bourbon please. Neat.”

Natasha nodded in confirmation and moved farther down the bar. You watched the man next to you as he spoke to Natasha and quickly looked away when he finished. You sat there awkwardly and kept your eyes on your drink, tapping the glass a bit. From the side, you saw the man turn to you with an air of slight nervousness; it was clear he’d come over to approach you.

“Hi,” he said and you turned your head to face him. “I’m Jack.” He held out a hand.

You took his hand, shaking it. “Hi.” You smiled politely and gave him your name.

“Yeah, I know,” he said somewhat sheepishly. “I asked Colonel Rhodes over there what your name was.”

You glanced over at Rhodey, who gave you a low thumbs up as he slowly spun on his heels back to the group he was conversing with. “I see.”

“I’d ask if I could get you a drink, but obviously…” He gestured to your glass. Looking down, you breathed out a light chuckle. You may not have been up to flirting, but so far he seemed congenial enough to chat with. “May I?” he gestured to the seat next to you. When you nodded, he sat down just before Natasha set his drink down in front of him. He offered her thanks as you caught eyes with her. She gave you a smirk before moving away to attend to other guests. In return, you gave her a look expressing your sarcastic thanks.

“So you’re a full-fledged Avenger now,” Jack said.

“Yup, I guess I am.”

“How is that?”

“Well, I guess as you might imagine,” you said. “Hard…man, is it hard sometimes…but it’s rewarding. It’s worth it when things go right. And that’s just the short answer.”

He nodded, chuckling. “I’m sure you’re right.”

The two of you talked for the next fifteen minutes or so. You learned Jack was new to S.H.I.E.L.D. and worked in communications. You asked about each other’s families, interests. You wanted to laugh at how much it was like a mini-date without actually being a date. You found him adorable and even thought he could be a potential friend at S.H.I.E.L.D. But while talking with him was nice, you were getting tired and were ready to retire to your room. As you prepared to tell him you were going to head out, you were surprised to hear a familiar voice on your other side.

“Hey, Nat,” Steve said. “Just water.”

“Sure thing, Cap.”

Your heart nearly skipped a beat when you heard his smooth voice so close to you. You sneaked a glance up at him from your seat, offering a small smile in greeting. He looked so handsome in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He offered a tight smile in return before you turned back to Jack. You almost didn’t want to leave anymore because of how close Steve was to you. It wasn’t even obscenely close, really, but it was closer than you were used to with him, and you swore you could feel his heat emanating onto your side.

You really were pathetic.

“So, um,” you said to Jack, “I’m getting pretty tired, so I actually think I’m gonna head out. It was great to meet you, though. Maybe I’ll see you around the tower or the compound.”

“Oh, uh, is it—do you mind if I…I’d really like to talk to you again sometime, maybe hang out, so—do you mind if I…maybe get your number?”

You sat there for a moment, unsure of how to answer, although you were pretty sure you were gaping at him.

Of course one of the few times Steve would be that close to you was the one time you suddenly wished he wasn’t. You knew he could hear everything, your stammering included. You wished a hole in the ground would appear and swallow you up. The situation was awkward enough without Steve being there to witness it all.

“Thanks,” you started slowly. “But…I’m not really looking for anything right now.”

“Oh…” You could tell he was trying to hide the pain of rejection on his face. “Ok. Yeah, ok. Uh, good night then.”

“I’m sorry,” you said as you got up, grabbing your clutch.

“Don’t worry about it. I guess it was a long shot anyway.” He waved it off.

You gave him a tiny reconciliatory smile, immensely glad he wasn’t the type to go off on a girl who rejected him. “Ok, well…good night.”

“Night,” he said.

As you turned to leave, your face burning, you saw out of the corner of your eye Steve still standing where he was before, a cup of water in his hand. It seemed he’d already gotten his drink and you’d missed it in the midst of your awkward rejection and, for whatever reason, he’d decided to stick around. Maybe for amusement so he could tease you later. Just great. You could still feel the flush on your face as you made your way to the elevator. You certainly were an oddity—an Avenger who could come face to face with people who wanted to destroy the world and hold her own but wanted to hide under the covers at the first sign of any social mishap.

After pressing the button for your floor, you stepped into the corner where you were largely out of sight, willing your color to return to normal. You eyed the doors, waiting for them to close, when a heavy arm shot out between them. Steve’s eyes were locked with yours as he quickly moved into the elevator. You stood stock still, wondering what was going on.

“Something happen?” you asked.

He stopped next to you and leaned his back against the wall, fists in his pockets. You noticed he didn’t press a button for a different floor. “Just…” he started, gaze trained somewhere ahead of him. “No, I just wanted to catch a break from the party for a while.”

You were about to ask why he didn’t just go to the balcony, but then you figured there must have been people there too. You also wanted to ask why he would’ve wanted a little escape when he was with Sharon, but it would’ve hurt a little too much. “Oh,” you said. Then you faced forward, and silence fell between the two of you. You tightened your grip on your clutch, wishing the elevator ride would both hurry up and last forever. It was as though you were surrounded by Steve, his mere presence in the enclosed space overwhelming your senses. You were sure if you reached out a mere few inches, you would’ve been able to touch him.

“You look nice, by the way.”

You turned your head to find him looking at you, an open, if not what looked to you a somewhat nervous, expression on his face. “Thanks,” you said, turning your face forward again in an attempt to hide the blush threatening to take over again. “So do you.” You gestured to him with your head and smiled shyly.

“Thanks,” he said, a shy smile of his own gracing his features as he looked down. That was all that was said between you for the rest of the ride. You wanted to laugh and cry at how you could maintain your composure so well when it came to working with him, but plop yourself into an elevator with him and only him and you were back in high school.

The elevator came to a stop, and though you wished you could spend more time in his company, even if it was silent, time had run out. You turned to Steve and said, “Night” before stepping out. You let out a small exhale as you started down the hall, the cooler air welcome on your skin. You expected to hear the elevator doors close behind you. You didn’t expect to hear Steve call out your name.

You stopped at the sound of his voice and turned. He was standing on the threshold of the elevator, one hand resting on the door’s edge. “Yeah?” you said.

Before you knew it, he was striding toward you with purpose. You remained fixed in your spot, unable to do anything else. He stopped just in front of you, his figure a bit imposing. “Mind if I walk you to your room?”

“Well…” As much as you were secretly thrilled, you couldn’t see a reason for it, seeing as your room was only a short distance away. “Sure. If you really want.”

The two of you walked side by side, arms barely touching. Your pace was slower than it could’ve been, but you couldn’t be sure who was matching whom.

“So did you have fun tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, I did,” you said. “Got to meet some cool people.”

“Oh. Jack?”

You furrowed your brows. “You know him?”

“Oh, no, I’ve just seen him around before,” Steve said, but you detected something false based on his affected, casual tone. The captain wasn’t known for being a very good liar.

You nodded anyway. “So you gonna head back down after this?”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

“What about Agent Carter?” you said, even though it pained you to mention her. “I noticed you two were hitting it off. I thought you’d wanna spend more time with her.”

“Sharon?” Steve chuckled without humor and gently shook his head. “That’s…complicated.”

You of course had no idea what he meant by that, but before you could delve deeper into the subject, you arrived at your door. “Well, thanks for walking me back.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the twenty steps to your room would’ve been impossible to manage by yourself,” he teased.

You laughed. “Hey, walking’s harder than it looks.”

A crooked smile graced his lips as he cast his eyes down, and you were hard-pressed not to gaze at him with what you were sure was adoration. He looked back up at you with the smile still hinting at his lips, and you were powerless to stop your heart from skipping a beat. “You do look really nice tonight. Not that you don’t always. But I mean—you look beautiful.”

You thought your heart was going to burst out of your ribcage. In an effort to play it cool, you quirked your head and teased him. “So smooth, Cap. Sharon’s putty in your hands, I’m sure.” At the mention of Sharon, Steve’s expression faltered. Not significantly, but enough for you to notice. “What is it?”

Looking away, he shook his head, more to himself, it seemed, and said softly, “Nothing.” If you didn’t know better, you’d have thought the small smile on his lips was a resigned one, if not sad. You felt a deep desire to take that look away, but you didn’t know how. “Well, you probably wanna get inside,” he said, gesturing to your door.

“Oh,” you said, trying not to feel a little stung by his perceived dismissal, however irrational, considering the whole point of your getting on the elevator was to go to your room. “Yeah.” As though to compensate for your slow movements in the moments prior, and out of embarrassment, you hurriedly placed your thumb on the small pad next to the door and heard the lock click open. “See you later,” you said before heading in.

“See ya,” you heard Steve say before you shut the door.

You walked through your apartment and into your bedroom, both mindlessly and with a million thoughts racing around in your head. You chucked off your heels and tossed your clutch onto the bed before placing your hands on your forehead, pushing at the hairline in private mortification. You closed your eyes and groaned. Did he notice how awkward you often were around him? Did he have a hunch about your feelings? That would have been most embarrassing of all.

But he called you beautiful. Steve called you beautiful.

You wanted to roll your eyes at yourself for taking so much stock in that, but you knew he was a man who meant what he said. You also knew just because a man thought a woman was beautiful didn’t mean he had deeper feelings for her, but knowing Steve found you at least physically attractive had you feeling giddy among a mix of other emotions.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the muffled chime of your phone. You dug it out of your clutch and found a text from Natasha.

_Everything ok?_

You sighed and texted back.

_Yeah, just got a bit tired. But I’m sure you heard, Miss I bartend to eavesdrop on people’s conversations._

You immediately received a response.

_:)_

Then another one.

_Don’t have to bartend to do that. I’d say I’m sorry, but… Steve still with you?_

Of course she saw Steve join you in the elevator.

_No, might be on his way back to the party._

You had to wait a little longer for a response.

_Shame._

Your brows furrowed.

_?_

_Nothing._

You stared at your phone with a puzzled look, your fingers hovering over the keys.

_But seriously, what?_

When you didn’t get a response within minutes, you knew she wasn’t going to answer. You rolled your eyes and tried not to overthink it. She probably meant something totally mundane.

After you changed out of your dress and did your nightly routine, you made yourself comfortable in bed and decided to catch up on one of your favorite shows. The party several floors above was probably still in full swing with no signs of slowing down. It was possible Steve was back there, rejoining Sharon and gracing her with his beautiful crooked smiles. They were probably teasing each other in flirtation and grazing each other’s hands every so often.

You found yourself zoning out with these thoughts and effectively shut them off in order to focus on the screen. It was of no consequence to you what Steve did in his personal life. You had no claim on him and, under realistic circumstances, you never would.


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday found you and the rest of the team lounging in Tony’s penthouse. The host had insisted on some team bonding time, claiming everyone was always busy doing their own thing. He wasn’t wrong; everyone was usually spread out around the city or country, and even those who took up residence in the tower ran into each other few times. As a result, Tony would occasionally corral the group together at his place. Everyone was there tonight, save for one person.

As you were all fighting over which movie to watch, you wondered in the back of your head where Steve was. Even though watching movies as a team didn’t happen too often, he normally liked to be there to catch up on his knowledge of pop culture.

“I’m telling you, Star Wars trumps Star Trek in movies, but Star Trek wins in TV,” Sam said.

“When have you ever watched Star Trek on TV?” Natasha asked.

“I’m sorry, have you been around me every second of every day of my life?”

Her response was a wry look as she popped a grape into her mouth.

“So what’s the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek?” Bucky asked.

“No, no,” Clint said, “we can’t get into this.”

“Sir, I must insist on another activity which isn’t conducive to arguing,” Vision said.

Tony waved him off. “Bickering’s good for the soul, wouldn’t be who I am without it. Now, how ’bout I proclaim myself head decision maker and choose this?” He picked up some obscure movie from the coffee table.

“Always with the westerns,” Clint said.

“Et tu, Clint?” Tony said.

“Can we choose something not so long?” Wanda asked.

“What, got a hot date, Maximoff?” Tony said.

“I would just prefer not to fall asleep in the middle of the film,” she said, unimpressed.

You picked up a movie from the table and held it up. “How ’bout this?”

Everyone groaned.

“You always wanna watch that.”

“Haven’t you seen that, like, 50 times?”

“Boooring.”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” you said, putting the movie back down.

“Ok, so we can’t agree on anything on Netflix or in this collection,” Natasha said. “Now what?”

“Why don’t we just do something else, Tony? Like laser tag or something?” Sam said.

“You really think I wanna spend my Saturday evening running around being chased by a bunch of whiny brats? I get enough of that here.” He added an “ow!” when Natasha kicked him in the shin.

“Hey, you wanted team building,” said Sam.

In the midst of all the bickering, Bucky leaned over to you. “Would it give away my age if I asked what laser tag was?”

You snorted and were about to reply when in came Steve.

“Well, look who decided to join us,” Clint said, throwing a decorative pillow at Steve, who caught it easily and tossed it back.

“Where you been, Cap? We’ve been in dire need of your extensive knowledge of pop culture,” Tony said.

“Afraid I won’t be able to join you guys tonight,” Steve said, shrugging on his leather jacket.

“Where you headed?” Sam asked.

“Nowhere. Just going out.”

“Ooh, it’s a secret,” he said.

“It’s not a secret.”

“It’s totally a secret,” Bucky casually chimed in.

“We’re all entitled to have a life, you guys.” Natasha gave them a pointed look.

“Does our gentleman friend finally have a lady friend?” Tony asked.

Steve put his hands on his hips, slightly hunched over in exasperation. “If you really wanna know, Sharon’s taking me somewhere.”

You swore you could feel your heart plummet.

“So looks like someone does have a hot date but it ain’t Maximoff. Color me pleasantly surprised,” Tony said.

“It’s not a date.”

“You sure about that?” Sam asked.

He sighed. “Look, I just came over to tell you I won’t be here, so…let me know if you need me.” With that, he turned and left.

He didn’t look at you once. Not that he had any reason to. You told yourself it was always going to happen, that he was bound to fall for Sharon, and if not her, then someone else. Someone who wasn’t you. You were too quick to allow your scant private conversations with him delude you into thinking he could ever reciprocate your feelings. It was a little easier to believe when it had been just the two of you under the warm glow of the hallway light that it was ok to feel something for him. That maybe he wasn’t so unattainable, after all, and you weren’t just wasting your time and energy on a hopeless infatuation. But with a new day came reality.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned your attention back to the group to find Natasha’s eyes on you. You hastily looked away and adjusted the surrounding pillows to look busy. But you knew you had been busted. And if she’d been watching, she must have known for some time. You knew she was perceptive, but you wondered if you’d also just been really obvious.

“Ok, how ’bout this?” Tony said. “How ’bout we all close our eyes, I scroll through everything on here, you tell me when to stop and whatever I land on, we watch. Fair?”

Everyone grumbled an affirmative response and eventually you all blindly came to a decision. You tried your best to focus on the movie, but the thought of Steve out with Sharon, even if he insisted it wasn’t a date, pricked away at you, stronger at some points than others. After the movie was over, everyone stretched and eventually went their separate ways. You looked at the time and grabbed Natasha and Wanda before they could leave.

“Wanna go out?”

  


* * *

  


As expected, the bar was full as you, Wanda and Natasha sat at a table, sipping from your drinks. A group had generously offered their table when they recognized the three of you. Fortunately, they hadn’t made a big scene as they insisted they were already on their way out.

“I’ll get the next round,” Wanda said as she got up for the bar.

Natasha continued sipping from her martini innocently.

“Just say what you wanna say,” you said.

“How long?”

You sighed, putting a hand to your face and rubbing your temple. “Too long. And you? How long have you known?”

“Too long.”

You wanted to be embarrassed, but you somehow felt lighter knowing someone else knew, like a small weight had been lifted off your chest.

“He’s an idiot.”

You quirked a brow.

“Look, normally I wouldn’t be supporting a personal relationship with a teammate. It gets messy. Look at me and Bruce.”

“You still haven’t spoken to him?”

“Let’s just say he knows how to stay off the grid. But back to the point, you and Steve,” she said with a knowing smirk, “I could get behind.”

You let out a guffaw, slightly uninhibited due to the drinks, and turned your attention to the patterns you were tracing on the coaster. “Trust me, there’s nothing to get behind.”

“And here I was thinking you were perceptive.”

“What? I’m perceptive.”

“Clearly not as much as you think.”

“Stop being cryptic, Nat, and just tell me what you mean.”

“Have you seen how the man looks at you?”

Your heart skittered. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s got constant hearts in his eyes. Poor guy’s practically been half in love with you ever since you joined the team.” You eyed her suspiciously, heart racing at her words but mind unwilling to believe them. She rolled her eyes. “Just because you two idiots are blind doesn’t mean everyone else is.”

“How Americans call this beer I will never understand.” You and Natasha looked up as Wanda sat back down with a large jug of beer she plopped in the center of the table. She looked between the two of you. “What is it?”

You let out a noncommittal sound and waved it off, ready to move on from the subject.

“You’ll tell me later. Or maybe you won’t have to.” She flexed her fingers in mock anticipation, hints of the red currents appearing at the tips.

“We’ve got a severe case of blindness on our hands, Maximoff.” Natasha leaned back in her seat.

“Blindness? Who can’t see?”

“These two lovebirds here,” she said, pointing with her thumb and sipping her drink.

“You mean you and Steve?”

You tilted your head in disbelief as Natasha snorted. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“It would be like saying the sky is blue,” Wanda said. “You’re a little too close to the picture, I think. What is that expression? You can’t see the forest for the trees?”

“You guys are delusional. All of you. You might wanna get it checked out. Can’t be good for missions.”

“I seem to recall one Steve Rogers practically chasing you into the elevator at Tony’s party the other night,” said Natasha.

“He chased you?” said Wanda.

“He didn’t chase me. Nobody chased anybody. I was going back to my apartment and he wanted a breather.”

“Oh, he wanted to breathe her, alright,” Natasha said and Wanda laughed.

“He’s with Sharon anyway,” you said, face burning. “So you’re both wrong.”

“Not everything is as it seems,” was all Wanda said.

“We’re not talking about this anymore.”

“Alright, alright.” Natasha draped an arm over your shoulder. “We’ll leave you alone. For now.”

  


* * *

  


By the time you got back to the tower, you were all carefree and merry, with Natasha being the least affected. After going your separate ways, you made the way to your apartment, where you immediately flopped face first onto the bed without thought, feet hanging off the end. You weren't sure how long you were lying like that when you heard a soft knock at your door. You thought you’d imagined it at first, but when it came a second time, your head popped up. You walked tipsily to the door, curious as to who it could have been at this time. Maybe it was one of the girls.

You were surprised, however, to find Steve on the other side of the peep hole in sleeping pants and a t-shirt that was probably meant to hang a little but clung to him. How he could look simultaneously endearing and mouth-watering enough to make you want to climb him like a tree, you had no idea.

You opened the door and held your arms out in welcome. "Steve!"

“You’re drunk,” he said without question.

“Goooood observation. Come in?” You swung to the side to let him in. You thought he would refuse but you were surprised once again when he brushed past you into the room. He’d been in several times before, the first being when you’d moved in and he’d offered his assistance. Every other time had been a cursory drop-in. “Hey, how’d you know when I got back?” you asked as you sort of clung to the door, closing it.

“I, uh, I asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to let me know.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to check up on you, make sure you got back ok. I heard you were out, so…”

You gave him a reprimanding look. “Steve, I’m a big girl.”

“I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Then you gave him a silly grin. “But nice to know you care.”

His expression lightened at your grin. “How are you with mornings after?”

“Mornings after? Mm, depends on what happened the night before,” you said with a brazen look.

You could’ve sworn his cheeks were flushed as he breathed out a chuckle. “Yup, you’re drunk.”

“Well, duh, I thought we already established that.”

“I meant how are you with hangovers?”

“Eh…” You made a ‘so-so’ motion with your hand.

“Ah,” he said as you moved past him to your bedroom.

“You ever miss being drunk?” you asked as you sat on the edge of your bed and chucked off your shoes.

Steve appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame, watching as you discarded your shoes. “Sometimes.”

You were able to take off your jacket with a little help from him after your arm got stuck in the sleeve. “Don’t feel like changing,” you mumbled.

“Sure you’ll be comfortable in that?”

You were wearing a dressy top and skinny jeans, which were never comfortable for you to wear too long, but you just grunted. You were reaching under your top to take off your bra when Steve’s eyes widened and he immediately whipped in the other direction. You snickered and placed the bra back in the drawer. You figured you’d change while he was already turned around. “’m changing."

“Alright, I’ll be…” He gestured in the general direction outside your bedroom before disappearing.

You were tugging off your jeans and making weird noises when Steve asked out of sight, “You ok in there?”

“Yup. Damn skinny jeans.”

“Well, I’ll tell you something,” he said. “Doesn’t matter what decade it is. Looks like style will always come before comfort.”

After some time, you were miraculously able to change into sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt without falling on your face. After you yelled out that you were decent, Steve peeked into the room before reentering fully. You noticed his eyes flicker toward your legs for a split second before they flew back up to meet yours.

“Time for bed?” he asked, gently guiding you into bed.

You hummed in response and allowed yourself to bask in the warmth of his hands as he touched you innocently. You felt bereft when his hands left you as soon as you got under the blanket. “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“Forgot to take off my makeup.”

He chuckled, adjusting the blanket. “Wanna take it off?”

“Take what off, Steve Rogers?”

He gave you a mildly exasperated look. “Your makeup.”

“Oh. No. Too lazy.”

“I take it you had fun tonight.”

You yawned. “Uh-huh. Lots of guys hit on us. Was funny. Three Avengers in a bar. Took lots of pictures.”

He blinked down at you. “No one gave you trouble, I hope.”

“Nope.”

He nodded to himself. “I’m sorry, I know you can take care of yourself, it’s just—”

You grabbed his hand and his eyes immediately shot down to where you were touching. “I know. It’s sweet. You’re sweet.” You could see him lost for words and you giggled at the sight.

“You need to stay hydrated,” he said. “I’ll get you some water. Be right back.” His hand fell out of yours and you nearly whined at the loss of contact as he turned to leave the room.

You frowned, telling him to hurry, but it was probably just in your head. You meant to wait for him, you really did, but the call of sleep was too strong. Before you knew it, and before you could properly say goodnight, you succumbed to blissful unawareness.

  


* * *

  


Dry. Your mouth was so dry.

You sat up slowly and ran a hand through your hair. Your head wasn’t hurting too badly. Judging by the light streaming through the windows, you could tell it was around noon. It felt great to be able to sleep in, even if you hadn’t meant to.

Overcome by thirst, you took off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, ready to go to the kitchen. Then you saw the bottle of water on your bedside table, and last night came rushing back to you. Letting out a load groan, you flopped back down and tossed the covers over your face.

You couldn’t believe Steve had seen you drunk. You remembered everything. You’d been more uninhibited around him, more silly. He came to your room to check on you like the gentleman he was and you flirted, albeit with the skill of a rooster. Then you fell asleep and he probably came back to find you with loose limbs and a gaping mouth. You wouldn’t have been surprised if there had also been drool.

There was no way you could face him today.

After nearly finishing the bottle of water, you decided a light jog was in the works. So after getting dressed and downing some granola, you hit the park for some much needed fresh air and rejuvenation. You nearly stopped several times when you thought you spied the back of Steve’s head, but it never turned out to be him. The chances of seeing him out and about were extremely low, but the paranoia clawing at your mind had you double-checking every corner, every strip of pavement.

When you made it back to the tower, you whiled away the next hour or so by tidying up. You liked to think you weren’t so much actively avoiding Steve as you were simply engaging in activities that happened not to involve him. You were half- convinced he knew about your feelings and wanted to avoid his company out of sheer embarrassment, as though that might convince him that perhaps he was mistaken.

It was an hour and a half in when your luck ran out. You were carrying a trash bag of discarded items, intending to throw it down the chute, when you spotted Steve down the hall, walking in your direction.

“Oh,” you said on reflex, stopping in your tracks.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly, slowing his steps. “I was just coming to see you.”

“Oh.” You were known for your eloquence.

He came to a stop and glanced at the trash bag. “Getting rid of some stuff?”

“Yeah, just doing some tidying up. I hate clutter."

“Yeah, I know. Did you forget you’re known as the neat freak around here?”

“Well, someone’s gotta be, right?”

He put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

The corner of your lips were quirked up as you resumed the short distance to the chute. Chucking the bag through the slot, you asked, “So, you needed something?”

“Oh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, right. Well, I’ve kinda been meaning to ask you something.”

You froze, unsure of where this was going. “Uh-huh?”

Steve stepped closer to you and licked his lips. You were rooted to your spot, wishing he’d both come closer and step away for the sake of your sanity. “Do you still have that athletic tape you borrowed from me a couple months ago?”

You blinked at him. Then let out a breathy laugh. “Uh, yeah. I’ll go get it.” You moved past him and into your apartment. “Sorry, I keep forgetting about that. You can come in.”

You moved to the drawer where you kept the tape as Steve looked around, hands in his pockets. You were thoroughly aware that the last time he was there was only the night before and that you’d babbled like a fool. Knowing him, he probably wouldn’t mention it. You were still digging around the drawer when you heard his soft voice.

“That’s from the ’40s.”

You looked over your shoulder to find him gazing softly at the large vintage photo of the Brooklyn Bridge leaning against the legs of your desk, not yet hung. “Yeah,” you said in equally soft tones, mesmerized by the gentle look on his face, where you could also detect—however well he tried to hide it—a hint of longing. “I got it from the flea market a couple days ago.” You turned fully with the tape in your hands and hesitantly approached him, unable to help but feel like you were intruding on a private moment. You stood before him, unwilling to break his reverie.

“Most of the time I think I’ve moved on, stopped yearning for the past,” he said, eyes still on the photo, gaze more unseeing this time.

“It’s ok to miss how things were,” you said. “It’s only natural. You went through something no one else has before. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I were in your position.”

He seemed to consider your words. “I was stuck in the past longer than I let on. I just learned to compartmentalize when I had other things to focus on.”

You simply watched him and waited patiently for him to continue.

“When I lost both my parents, I thought I had lost everything. Then I thought I lost Bucky. Then I was thrown into this world and lost Peggy.” He gave a dry, humorless laugh, and immediately you wanted to reach for him. It deeply saddened you to hear in his own words how profound a turn his life had taken. You couldn’t imagine how lonely and displaced he must have felt before he found a place with the Avengers.

“You’re really brave, you know,” you said. He looked at you then but didn’t say anything, so you continued. “And I don’t mean that in a condescending way, just—what you’ve done, the way you’ve handled things…it’s admirable.”

He smiled sadly and your heart nearly broke. “My life’s here now anyway. That old life will always be a part of me, but…you can’t change the past.” He spoke matter-of-factly but with resignation behind his words. “Besides…” Something about his tone brought your eyes back up to him. “Not everything’s so bad nowadays.”

He kept his gaze on you, none of his usual shyness present. You didn’t know what to make of it. You had to look away for fear of doing something impulsive and stupid like wrapping your arms around him tight or, worse, kissing him.

“Uh, here’s your tape,” you said, handing him the tape, effectively ruining the moment. “Thanks for that, by the way. Sorry again for hogging it.”

Steve chuckled. “You know, if I really wanted some, I could’ve just gone out and bought more.”

“Well, then why’d you ask for it back?” you teased.

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk to you,” he said, his playful tone a stark contrast to what it had been just moments ago.

Although you knew he was joking, you couldn’t stop your heart from reacting. Even if what he said were true, it wasn’t like he needed an excuse to talk to you considering you worked together. What the team did required socialization and cooperation, after all. You shook your head at him in return and looked back at the photo. You went over to the desk, picked the photo up off the floor and went back to Steve. “I want you to have it.” You held out the frame. If you had your way, he would never find out you’d bought it because it reminded you of him.

His eyes went from the photo then to you in mild disbelief. “But you bought it.”

“Yes, I did,” you said. “And I want you to have it.” You beckoned for him to take it. “Please.” When he made no move to take it, you tried to convince him further. “I saw the way you looked at it, Steve,” you said. “This is my gift to you.”

 _I want you to be happy_ , you wanted to say to him.

Gingerly taking the frame from your hands, he gave you a meaningful look. “Thank you.”

And in those two words, you knew how much he was expressing. You gazed at each other a moment longer.

“Well, I gotta go down to the training room,” he said. “I told Wanda I’d work with her.”

“Try not to get too beat up,” you said as you followed him to the door.

“Can’t make any promises.” He stopped at the threshold. “Thanks again for this,” he said, motioning with the frame in his hand.

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll probably look much more at home at your place than mine.”

Steve nodded, appraising the photo, and gave you one last smile. “See you later.”

“See ya.” You made sure to watch him leave for only a second before you gently shut the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Saw Infinity War over the weekend. I'm currently writing to you from beyond the dead.

“Pass me that wrench, will you?”

You handed Tony the tool as requested and leaned back against the table. “I don’t know, Tony, why us two?”

“Because he’s the captain and you’re the one no one can say no to. Hey, careful with the table; there’s thousands of dollars worth of equipment behind you.”

You eased up slowly, mildly amused that Tony would be concerned about what was essentially pocket change to him. You were currently in one of his labs after he’d called you over while he worked on some newfangled device of his. “And polaroids? I mean, it’s a cute idea, but not something I’d guess came from you.”

He shrugged. “So you guess right. Pepper was the one who came up with it. Figured it’d be a good way to celebrate the team. Also might be an attraction of sorts to any guests who visit.”

You raised a brow in clear skepticism. “You’re concerned about guests finding a point of interest? In your famous New York penthouse that’s worth who knows how much?”

“To Pepper I am. Look, point is it’s a cute and fluffy thing to do, alright? We could use some more of that around here.” You moved to speak and he quickly added with a wag of his wrench, “If you say ‘get a dog,’ so help me.”

You fought a smirk. “Are two people really necessary, though?”

Tony stood upright then, pausing in his work. “You know, for two people who make constant googly eyes at each other, you think you’d be more open to going around snapping pictures with the guy.”

Your mouth flapped open and shut like a fish. “Wh—what?”

“Don’t give me that. You’re insulting my intelligence.”

You crossed your arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Tony.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you also don’t wanna jump the man every chance you get.” Giving him an incredulous look, you began to offer a retort before he interrupted. “Don’t worry. He wants the same thing. Just a word of advice from an at-times seemingly distant but caring, cool uncle figure, though: do be gentle. He is 100, after all.”

“Oh…my god,” you said, shaking your head. “There’s something in the water. Why does everyone keep saying that? Why is everyone even talking about this? Do you all have group meetings every Tuesday or something where you talk about our love lives?”

“You know, not a bad idea. I might bring it up at our next Wednesday meeting where we talk about our taxes. Listen, amiga, everyone but you two knuckleheads knows but most of us are trying to stay out of it, let the two of you figure it out for yourselves.”

“Then why bring it up? Why make me and Steve be the ones going around taking pictures and signatures?”

“One, because we may be staying out of it but if we have to witness another second of your puppy dog eyes following each other around everywhere we’re going to spontaneously combust, so there’s a slight nudge for you, and two, because I wasn’t lying. He is the captain and you are the one no one can say no to.”

“That’s not true. People say no to me all the time.”

“So can I take that to mean everything else I just said is true? Good to know. Look, how bad could it be? It’s easy peasy, a walk in the park, yada yada. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble getting the others to cooperate.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Tell ’em Steve may be the leader, but I’m the one paying for all this.” With a quick flip of the switch, the tall device on the table roared to life, startling you. Standing victoriously with a hand on his hip, Tony rested a hand on top of it. “Don’t think it’ll come to that, though. Unless someone in the group has an intense aversion to pictures that we don’t know about. So we good? You and Capsicle are gonna go around taking pictures of each of our lovely Avengers?”

“And getting their signatures,” you said grudgingly.

He pointed an approving finger and gave you a conspiratorial smile. “And getting their signatures.”

  


* * *

  


“Ready to get this over with?” you asked lightly as Steve approached you outside the penthouse.

He gave a mild shrug accompanied by the tight line of his mouth. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You tried not to feel stung by his resignation. You were sure he had better things to do than to go around hunting people down with you. Holding out the camera, you asked, “Do you wanna take the pictures?”

“It’s probably best if you do it. I’d probably find some way to end up getting a blurry shot of their shoulder instead.”

“You can go head to head with giant aliens but you don’t feel confident enough to operate a polaroid camera,” you joked.

“I get it, go ahead and lay the old man jokes on me while you still can,” he said with a dimpled half-smile.

“While I still can? Is that a threat?” You wanted to wince at how high-pitched your voice had become. Surely it was too obvious to him how you’d unwittingly fallen into a poor bout of flirting.

“Take it however you want.” With that, you were off in search of your victims.

“What is this for?” Sam asked with suspicion after you found him at his apartment.

“Tony thinks it’d be a good idea to have a bulletin board up in his place with pictures of the team,” Steve answered.

“His exact words were ‘cute and fluffy,’” you added.

Sam nearly snorted. “So what, you two are like the parents? Goin’ around taking pictures of your kids?”

“Just work with us here, Sam,” said Steve.

“Alright, I won’t question it. How should I pose? Finger on the cheek? Over the shoulder?” He mimicked every pose before laughing to himself while you and Steve looked on.

“If you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna take a picture of you mid-blink,” Steve threatened.

“His reflexes are good enough,” you supplied.

“Hey, simmer down, you two. Alright, alright, I get it. Go ahead. I’m ready.”

Warily, you raised the camera and waited a second or two to ensure he wouldn’t move. Then, right as you snapped the picture, his eyes widened to the size of saucers while his smile remained. You and Steve made simultaneous groans of complaint.

“Really, Sam?” you said, taking the photo out of the slip.

“What? It’ll be a goofy picture. You said he wanted cute and fluffy.”

Completely unwilling to have another go at it, you dropped your shoulders in resignation and turned to Steve. “The marker.”

Steve handed Sam the black marker as you gave him the undeveloped photo. After quickly scribbling his signature on the white portion on the bottom, Sam handed it back to you. “Enjoy.”

“It’s actually a really funny picture.” You examined the developed photo as you and Steve walked down the hallway together afterward.

“I think Tony’s right. We could use a little of that around here,” he said.

“It was Pepper’s idea, actually.”

“Well, you know what they say. Behind every great man…”

“I like to think it's more 'beside' now. I’m glad the two of them worked out. You can tell they’re both happier.”

“It’ll do strange things to you, I suppose.”

“What?”

He lifted his broad shoulders in a casual shrug, his hands in his pockets. “Love.”

“Do you think being happier is a strange thing?” you teased.

“Not exactly what I was talking about, but the other things, yeah.”

“Like what?”

He glanced at you, unsure, though his crooked smile was still in place. “Never mind. It’s not a big deal.”

You were a bit confused, but you left it at that, and the two of you were off in search of the others. After Sam, you were able to move on to several other team members, some of whom readily accepted, while others moaned and groaned.

“Hey, we’re the ones who have to go around chasing you down,” Steve said at one point.

After you’d successfully wrangled a good chunk of the team, the two of you made your way to the park to meet Wanda and Vision, who’d since developed a human body. When you arrived at the bench they were lounging on, they both stood, Wanda smirking as she spied Steve’s figure beside you. In turn, you gave her an extremely pointed look. She wouldn’t say a thing.

“So what is this picture board we heard about?” she asked.

“Tony and Pepper thought it’d be a cute idea to hang all our pictures up,” you answered. “Sort of like a yearbook.”

“I understand yearbooks are a form of commemoration at the end of a school year,” Vision said. “Does that imply this is the end of something?”

Exchanging a glance with Steve, you said, “Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

“It’s best if we don’t think too deeply about this. Better to just go with it,” Steve said and motioned to them with the marker in his hand. “Now who wants to go first?”

“I will,” said Wanda. Quickly smoothing the strays of her hair down, she clasped one hand around her forearm and posed steadily.

You snapped the picture and caught the photo as it slid out. “Great. Vision?”

“I must confess I’m not entirely knowledgeable in posing for photos.”

“Just look natural,” Steve said.

“Not the best advice, Steve. This is Vis we’re talking about.” Wanda looked up at Vision with a teasing smile and nudged his elbow. “Come on, we’ll take one together.”

“Is that what was requested?”

“There are no hard rules to this,” said Steve, crossing his arms. “I’m sure whatever Tony has in mind, there’ll be room enough to hold whatever we come back with.”

With that said, Wanda snuggled up to Vision and grasped his arm. Standing on her tip-toes, she blew onto his face and he immediately flinched in surprise. You laughed and snapped the picture just as Wanda broke into laughter and Vision had a comical look of confusion on his face.

“That’s perfect,” you said, handing them the photos as Steve gave them the marker. “Now if you’ll sign.”

After they signed the photos, Wanda regarded you and Steve curiously. “Have you two had your pictures taken?”

Exchanging another glance with you, Steve answered, “No.”

“Well, we can’t let you two off the hook. Ok, Steve, you first.” She swiftly grabbed the camera from your hand and snapped a picture of Steve as he watched, adorably confused look in place.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready.”

“Candid pictures are the most telling,” she said before turning to you. “And now you.”

“Wha—I—”

_Snap._

“Oh, these will be very good,” she said with a laugh as she examined the currently blank sheets. “And now together.”

Before you could question her, she summoned a red burst of energy from her fingertips and you and Steve were sent colliding into each other’s sides. It might as well have been a brick wall you crashed into with the way his body barely yielded to you. Your arms flailed for a hot second to catch your balance before you felt two firm grips on either arm. Your head flew up to Steve as he looked down at you, his jaw clenched ever so slightly.

_Snap._

Your eyes were drawn away from each other when you heard the camera go off. Turning simultaneously, you found Wanda lightly shaking the photo, looking entirely too pleased with herself. And with a jolt, you suddenly realized you were still glued to Steve’s side. It wasn’t like you could ever forget something like that, but you were sure he was wondering what you were still doing there. Unwilling to look at him, you quickly stepped away, immediately missing his warmth.

Wanda’s smirk was still in place as she handed you the photos. “Don’t forget to sign.”

Afterwards, you and Steve were walking side by side through the park to get back to the tower. You weren’t sure if you were just imagining the slight tension between the two of you. Clearing your throat, you said lightly, “I can’t believe she did that. It’s not like we would’ve said no to a picture together.”

“Yeah, well, I guess when you have the ability to move people around, you tend to use it to your liking,” he said.

You chuckled. As you walked, you discreetly observed the way he purposely matched your pace, the length of his longer stride falling in line with yours. You were hyperaware of his impressive figure right beside you, and for a fleeting moment you were overcome with the incredible urge to hook your arm into his and cuddle up next to him. You just wanted to feel him.

“It’s a great day out today,” he said. “I don’t get to enjoy them as often as I’d like.”

“You don’t?”

“Nah. Too afraid of being recognized.” He pulled down the tip of his baseball cap in show. “That and I’ve usually got other things to keep me busy.”

“Does it annoy you, being recognized?”

“‘Annoy’ isn’t exactly the word for it. Not when they ask for pictures or autographs. More like ‘bother.’”

“Why?”

“Because I’m no different from them.”

Your first instinct was to snort. Steve, Captain America, a super soldier from the ‘40s, no different from the average person? But then you further considered his words. “What do you mean?”

“All of us, we’re no different. We were just dealt different hands, put in extraordinary circumstances. I guess what I’m really getting at here is that everyone sees me as this hero.”

“But you are. Even without the whole super soldier thing, you’d still be one.”

He glanced at you with a dry smirk. “Everyone has this built-up idea of me in their head. Like I’m this mythical relic of the past.”

You wanted to tell him you didn’t see him that way. You wanted to tell him you so badly wished you knew him more than you did. But you said nothing, instead walking on with a profound sense of sadness that you’d been missing out on getting to know him for so long. He was so much more than what people thought, and in that moment you wished more than anything to be able to take his hand in yours, sliding your fingers in between his in support.

“So Sharon took me to this concert that one night.”

Your heart sank. Right. Sharon. “Oh. How was it?”

“I actually really enjoyed it. Indie, I think she said they were.”

You nodded slowly, hating yourself for your next question. “So how’s it going with you two?”

His brows pinched together. “What do you mean?”

“You know, you and Sharon. How’s it going?”

He breathed out a humorless laugh and scratched the back of his neck. “We’re not…together, if that’s what you mean.”

You were helpless to control the rising rhythm of your heartbeat. “Oh. I just thought—everyone thought—”

“I don’t know why everyone likes to make such a big fuss about it.”

“Well, because we always thought you, uh, liked each other.” Your attention was on the ground as you spoke.

He didn’t say anything for a while, and you thought maybe he was uncomfortable discussing his personal life. You couldn’t blame him, and you didn’t want to pry. It also didn’t help that it was getting increasingly more difficult to swallow down the lump in your throat. Intending to move on from the subject, you were about to point out the soft pretzels for sale up ahead when he spoke.

“I think it was just the idea of her.” You turned to look at him then, unsure of what to say. His expression was thoughtful as he kept his gaze forward. “She’s incredibly smart, talented. And yeah, she’s pretty. Probably the kind of girl my ma would’ve loved.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t know why that particular remark nearly made you want to cry. There he was, doling out praises for Sharon, even going so far as to add his mother into the mix, all the while oblivious to the effect his words had on you.

“But I don’t know…something’s not there. And she feels the same way.”

You offered no response. There was nothing you could say.

Then he turned to you. “Ah, I’m sure you don’t wanna hear about this stuff. How interesting could my love life be, right?”

“No,” you managed to let out. “It’s ok.”

It was largely silent between the two of you as you continued the journey back. You were still walking through the park when a pair of teenagers stopped you and asked for a picture. After you posed for a group shot, you stood off to the side and watched as they took turns taking individual pictures with Steve. Your mind, however, was far away.

It was the way of things, you supposed. You weren’t the girl Captain America was supposed to end up with. In the stories and history books, he ended up with someone as shining as him, someone glaringly beautiful and strong, someone who could stand next to him and about whom people could say, “That makes sense.” He was Steve Rogers and he could’ve had anyone he wanted. Though it was true your spirits were temporarily lifted when he informed you that he and Sharon weren’t actually together, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone else came along. Someone who could fill the space, both between his fingers and in his bed. Someone who wasn’t you.

  


* * *

  


“Well, whaddya know, that actually looks pretty good,” Tony said as you all stood in front of the large bulletin board. “Kudos, you two,” he added to you and Steve.

“This is already shaping up to be such a sweet photo album of sorts for the team,” said Pepper. “I can’t wait to watch as it fills up even more.” She pointed to the picture of you and Steve together. “Ha, look at that. What was going on there?”

“A slight interference,” was all Steve said.

“We all need a little of that every now and then, Cap.” Tony wrapped an arm around Pepper’s waist and addressed her. “Whaddya say we go and drink to posterity?”

“Sounds good. See you guys.”

They walked off, leaving you and Steve in front of the bulletin board hung up in the vast, sleek room. You couldn’t think of anything to say, so you kept your attention on the display, expecting him to turn and leave. You were surprised when he made no move to do so.

“Pepper was really onto something here,” he said, and you almost thought it sounded like he was equally unsure of what to say.

“Yeah. Really captures the spirit of the team, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

You’d tried not to stare too long at the photo of you and him, but it was like a magnet that inevitably drew your gaze. It was an incredibly awkward picture—your stance was stiff as you looked up at him with clueless doe eyes and he didn’t look any more pleased to be touching as much as the two of you were. Ever the courteous man, he was only helping you regain your balance.

He seemed to know where your eyes lay. “That picture will certainly go down in the books. I can already see everyone poking fun at it.”

“Yup.” You turned to him then and met his gaze for a split second, as if in fear that your feelings would show too plainly on your face if you looked at him too long. “Well, gotta go. See you later.”

You didn’t know why you were suddenly so eager to escape. Embarrassment, perhaps, because of your fear that he might suspect your feelings. Shyness because you were thoroughly reminded of how out of your depth you were.

You heard him utter a “see you” from behind as you tried not to bolt in your haste to the elevator. When you stepped in, you expected him to have walked away when you turned.

You didn’t expect him to be looking right at you.

Your eyes were locked on each other for the longest heartbeat. Then, as if you were both only realizing you were caught in the act, your eyes immediately flickered away from the other right as the door slid shut.

You didn’t move for the remainder of the ride.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you *so* much to everyone who’s been subscribed to this work and for being so patient! I hate that it took me a while to update, but I think the inspiration’s finally starting to kick in again. I don't know how much longer there is to go, but all the same, I’d again like to give a big thanks to everyone who's reading. It means a lot. <3

It was about a month after you and Steve went around taking the initial pictures. It was also the day some of the team were to return from a two-week-long mission. Seeing as not everyone was necessary for every single mission, you’d stayed behind. Though the time apart from Steve, which was nothing in the grand scheme of things, allowed you to take a breather and refocus on your purpose in being there, you couldn’t stop that little nudging feeling somewhere in your chest that reminded you how much you missed him. It was silly, you knew; he’d be back soon and, for all your thoughts on missing him, you were sure you weren’t going to act on any of them when he did return. You were going to pretend he was just another teammate, were going to turn your gaze away when you found it landing on him for too long, because anything else was pointless. Why, for the life of you, you were unable to tamp down that cloying feeling in your chest and stomach when you were around him, you didn’t know. But you so wished you could. The only thought that comforted you was that so long as those reactions plagued you without his knowledge, you could at least endure them silently and privately until they passed.

You’d spent much of the afternoon at a street festival with Wanda and Vision, and it was by pure chance that you’d run into Agent Metzler, or Jack from that one night at the party. When the two of you inadvertently wandered off by yourselves, Wanda and Vision announced their departure and Jack asked you to grab a bite with him. You’d felt no pressure from him and, comfortable with his easygoing demeanor, readily accepted, after which you both went out to eat together as friends. Afterwards, he escorted you into the lobby of the tower as the daylight quickly waned.

“Thanks for coming out with me,” he said. “It’s a nice change to have some pleasant company around here for once.”

“Oh, it can’t be that bad.”

“Let’s just say I’m not exactly a city boy.”

You were struck with a strong burst of empathy as you hit the button for the elevator. You’d been in his shoes not too long ago. “You seem like a resilient guy. Smart, tough when you need to be. You’ll be fine, I know you will.”

“Thanks. Can’t help but feel like I’m a little invisible, though. And not in a good way. Like I might as well be anyone else. And being new to S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t really help either. I get we have to pay our dues, but man, those guys take ‘hard ass’ to a whole new level. Oh, crap, don’t tell anyone I said that.” He made a show of looking around. “Quick, is there a red dot on my forehead?”

You laughed loudly and were about to commiserate some more with him when a figure appeared out of the corner of your eye. In an embarrassingly startled move, you turned and were met with the sight of Steve, carrying both a duffel bag and a weariness you couldn’t quite pinpoint. You knew the man could be light on his feet, but it was usually only when he needed to be, and you couldn’t see why he would’ve needed to be in that instance. Then again, the added activity around the lobby might have contributed to your lack of awareness.

“Steve!” you exclaimed. It took him a moment before he was able to muster a tight smile that barely brushed his cheeks. Beside you, Jack shyly mumbled something that sounded like “Captain Rogers,” at which Steve graced him with a tiny, obligatory nod. The elevator doors opened behind you and, with a fair amount of effort, you tore your eyes away from Steve, who remained peering at you with a strange look in his eye, and turned to Jack. “Thanks for dinner, Jack. It was really fun.”

Jack nodded, keenly aware himself of how Steve observed the whole exchange. “We should hang out again, you know, outside of work.”

Inexplicably eager to end this whole exchange with the way a certain man’s presence managed to smother you, however silent it was, you said quickly with a wave, “Yeah, let’s do that. See you later, bye,” and stepped into the elevator.

Steve spared Jack another glance before he too entered the enclosed space, which was empty save for you. In an effort to keep your eyes from the man next to you, you watched Jack’s retreating figure before the closing doors blocked your view.

“You’re back,” you said, trying not to pay too much attention to the heaviness of his eyes. “How was it?”

“There were a few unexpected hurdles, but everything turned out okay.”

You nodded, and silence fell over you.

“So, you and Agent Metzler,” he said. “Guess you decided to give him a shot, huh?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no, we’re just friends. I made it pretty clear with him, so…”

“You sure about that?”

You twisted your brow. It wasn’t very much like him to appear so invested in your personal life.

“I’m just saying, as a guy, when a girl tells you she only sees you as a friend but continues to spend time with you, it’s easy to fool yourself into thinking she does like you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not leading him on, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“And guys should realize it’s possible for girls to be friendly to guys without there being an ulterior motive. We shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells just so our behavior isn’t misconstrued as flirting and we’re accused of stringing the guy along.”

He sighed. “Nevermind, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Where was all this coming from? Was he just irritated from the mission or did his irritation only bring down his inhibitions of saying what he truly felt? Either way, you found yourself unexpectedly annoyed as you traversed the final floors. When the doors opened to your floor, you were glad to step out.

“Hey, wait, listen—” you heard behind you.

You didn’t know what compelled you to stop. When you turned, you found Steve with one hand blocking the doors.

He gave a heavy sigh. “I’m just acting a little cranky ’cause of these past couple of weeks away. Don’t listen to me. You’re a thoughtful person and any guy would be lucky to have you.”

You had no idea what to say back. With his eyes on you, Steve took his hand off the doors and stepped back until he hit the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. At the last second, he let his gaze fall and the doors closed.

  


* * *

  


“Alright, who’s down for some Guesstures?” Tony said with a clap of his hands.

It was time for more team bonding but instead of movies, it was game night. You’d already gone through several board games and trivia, and you were now ready to get up on your feet. All evening, you’d tried not to pay too much attention to the slight tension between you and Steve, who sat on the couch across from you.

Tony did a quick headcount and pointed at you. “You. Looks like we’re uneven, so you scooch to the other side.”

“Why me?”

Natasha pulled you over by the arm. “Just come on.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, you landed on the opposite side of the coffee table, squished between Natasha and Steve. You pointedly avoided eye contact with the latter, even as your shoulder burned where it made contact with his.

“Ok then,” said Tony, “who wants to go first?”

What soon followed was a good dose of belly laughs, the kind that made you short of breath. Round after round, you watched as each person went up and acted out their cards for their respective team before the buzzer sounded. There were hits and hilarious misses, and at some point Sam dropped onto his side on the floor and writhed with his arms pinned to his sides. One side of the room was overcome with overlapping shouts.

“Fish!” Clint shouted just as the buzz rang out.

“Wriggle! It’s wriggle, man!” Sam said as he stood.

Then it was your turn and you rose steadily from Steve’s side, instantly aware of the warmth that left you. You chose four cards at random and looked them over, quickly working out how you could act each one out as expediently as possible. Then your eyes landed on the last card with a double take. _Kiss_. It made no sense, you knew this, but you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering for a fleeting second to where you imagined you and Steve as the feature players in that scenario. You could’ve done anything else to act out the card, even blow an air kiss, and it would’ve been just as sufficient. But at several of the others’ urging you to get on with it, you quickly shook those thoughts away and placed the offending card in the last slot of the plastic clapperboard. Maybe you wouldn’t even get to it before the buzzer sounded.

But you did. After successfully playing “shiver,” “confetti,” and “backward” to your team, your eyes flew to the last card in the slot. You were more than aware of the time crunch you were on, and you badly wanted to win, so after a rapid glance between Natasha and Steve, who sat closest to where you stood, you threw caution to the wind and pulled him up by the shoulders, planting a heavy kiss on his cheek.

_Bzzzzz!_

Neither of you paid the sound any mind as your eyes remained on the other. You were still clutching at his shoulders, while his hands had found their way to your waist, where his touch burned through your clothes. Meanwhile, there were simultaneous whoops and groans of defeat around you.

“Y’all had it easy. Anyone could’ve done those,” Sam said.

“This is coming from the man who looked like he was being electrocuted for ‘wriggle,’” Wanda said from beside him.

“Yoo-hoo.”

Snapping out of your daze, you hastily dropped your hands from Steve’s shoulders and found Tony’s eyes on you, brows raised in amusement. You cleared your throat and brushed past Steve, feeling the trail he blazed as his hands slid from your waist, his fingers catching at the edge of your hip. You sat down only to then catch eyes with Natasha, who blinked all too innocently at you.

At some point later, everyone decided to take a break from the games and instead lounged around, while you ventured to the bar to make yourself a drink. In the middle of pouring, Wanda appeared at the other side and took a seat, casually resting her elbows on the countertop.

“Make me one?” She nodded to the drink. You likewise nodded. “So how are things going between you and Steve?” she asked in a slightly lowered voice.

You chanced a glance over her shoulder at the man in question, who stood next to the couch, hands in his pockets as he chatted with the others. “Like you don’t know.”

“I don’t, actually. This may come as a surprise, but you don’t exactly go around advertising your crush on him.”

You winced upon hearing the word “crush.” It almost sounded juvenile, or frivolous, when a deep-seated part of you knew what you felt for him was anything but, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself it really was just a silly infatuation.

Wanda continued, “I’m not judging you for it. If you want to keep it to yourself, that’s fine. But if you want to talk…”

You slid the drink you’d originally meant for yourself over to her. “It seems that’s all anyone wants to talk to me about these days.” As you got started on the second drink, you noticed Wanda purse her lips as she adjusted the sleeves of her sweater. Letting out a sigh, you said, “Sorry. I’m just still a little annoyed with him.”

She perked up at that. “Him? Why?”

“He basically accused me of stringing Jack along earlier.”

“Agent Metzler, who we ran into the other day?”

“Yup. He walked with me back to the lobby just as Steve got back.”

“He saw you?”

“More than saw. He made a point to offer his unsolicited advice, said I’m getting Jack’s hopes up by offering to hang out with him more, but I told him I made it clear to Jack I wasn’t interested in him like that.”

Wanda gaped at you.

“What?” you asked.

“Do you have a dictionary on hand?”

“Huh?”

“So I can flip to the word ‘jealous’ and stick it in your face.”

Your hand faltered where it mixed your drink. “What?”

“I will bet anything that that man over there,” she said, jerking her head, “was jealous.”

The heavy flips in your stomach were impossible to ignore. “No. He definitely wasn’t.”

She barely refrained from groaning. “How much longer is this going to go on? We’ve all tried to stay out of it, but I don’t know how much more of this we can take.” You opened your mouth, but before you could speak, she went on, “Listen, I am your friend. And as your friend, I am telling you to take a chance. Did you not see how he went red as a tomato when you kissed him? And that was only on the cheek.”

“He would’ve had that reaction to any unexpected kiss.”

In a flash, Wanda had her fingers lightly dipped in her drink before flicking the liquid at you.

“Hey!”

“Consider it a wakeup call. We all know by now how not everything we take for granted is there the next day. This is good, by the way,” she said, raising her glass as she slid from her seat and made to leave.

You turned to place the bottles of alcohol back on the shelf, and when you turned back around, you jumped slightly at the sight of Steve right in front of you. He took a seat in the recent vacancy left by Wanda.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you said carefully. “Want a drink?”

“No, I just came to chat, I guess.”

You nodded slowly, clueless as to where this was going. “Well, I was just going to head back, so…” You took a step around the counter, gesturing behind him and waiting to proceed as an invite for him to follow.

“No, wait. Uh, I guess I will take that drink.”

“Any requests?”

“Surprise me.”

Settling back behind the bar, you got to work, glad to have something to occupy your hands, seeing as you were fully aware of how he watched you. “Sorry for that kiss, by the way. Time was running out and I couldn’t think of anything else to do, and you were closest, so…”

His brows raised in a flash of surprise. “No need to apologize. We’re friends, right?”

Friends. You bit your lip and gave a heavy, cynical nod. “Yeah. Yeah, of course we are.”

For a little while longer, the only sounds were of the chatter and laughter in the center of the room, as well as the clinking of glass as you mixed and stirred under the scrutiny of the man before you. You had an inkling why he was there, and you were soon proven to be correct.

“Listen…” he started. You were all ears. “I just wanted to apologize. What I said earlier this week…don’t listen to me. I was just worn out from just getting back. A little irritable. Obviously, you should be friends with whoever you want to be friends with.”

You slowly slid his drink over to him. “Thanks. And you know, I get it. I know how we can all get after a mission sometimes.”

“Well, regardless, I’m sure you don’t need me telling you what to do when it comes to your personal life.”

“We’re friends, Steve,” you said, shrugging in what you hoped to be a casual manner. “Friends help each other out. They give each other a good kick in the ass when they need it.”

The stiffness of his shoulders noticeably loosened. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. And you definitely don’t need this guy when it comes to all this,” he said, indicating that he referred to himself.

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

He let out a small bitter laugh. “You honestly can’t think I’m the guy to turn to for romantic advice. Come on. Everyone knows how uninteresting I am in that department.”

Uninteresting. So that was the word he was going to use. You, like many others, were fully aware of what had transpired between him and Peggy Carter. His lost love, who still lived and had lived a full life after him. To everyone else, it was a lifetime ago, but to him, it might’ve felt like only yesterday. In a flash, everything was gone for him when he went down in the ice, but in another flash, he was awoken to a new world filled with a whole slew of things to contend with.

Your heart ached whenever you wondered about him and Peggy, how he coped with her present situation. To see what might’ve been right before his eyes, having thought it to be permanently lost all those years ago. What might’ve been would never be, you knew that much, but you were grateful for the peace of mind the legendary woman was able to give him in her old age. Then you remembered Sharon, her grandniece, and how she also seemed able to provide Steve with a certain kind of happiness. Maybe it ran in the family, you thought as your heart ached in a different way.

You said none of this and merely shrugged. “You’ve got other things to worry about. I don’t see why people push you so hard. I mean, yeah, we’re all human and we need companionship, but if it happens, it happens. And if it doesn’t happen according to other people’s timelines and they make fun of you for it, well, frankly, I think they’re being big jerks about it.” You leaned in conspiratorially at the end and were met with his light laughter.

“I appreciate the concern.” He gave you a closed-lip smile that showcased the twinkle in his eyes. You always loved when he did that. “They’re just being good friends, too.”

“I know. They just want you to be happy.” _As do I_ , you wanted to say.

His smile faltered then, gradually becoming a ghost of a wince before he quickly recovered and nodded. He held up his glass. “Thanks for the drink.”

You raised your own and clinked it with his. “Cheers.”

You drank in silence for a while, catching each other’s eyes with secret smiles every now and then, and you found yourself wishing you could remain in that moment forever. He set his drink down, drawing random patterns on the glass. He looked slightly nervous, like he was holding something in, but you remained in quiet patience. At last, he drew his piercing gaze up to you and parted his lips.

But before he could speak, you felt a familiar buzz in your pocket, and judging by his reaction, so did he. Moving more slowly than him, you had just pulled out your phone to glance at the message when Steve’s trademark voice rang out low but clear.

“Alright, everyone. Suit up.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there’s flawed logic or plotholes regarding the action in this chapter, um…please just ignore it??

“All clear?” Steve’s low voice came through everyone’s ear.

“Earlier reconnaissance made sure the place is empty,” Natasha said.

“And sensors detect two other heat signatures in there. One looks like it’s hovering above the ground. It’s gotta be her and the doctor,” Sam chimed in from his patrol outside.

“Where are they now, Sam?” you asked from your position in the large foyer, where it had been nearly pitch black until your eyes adjusted. In front of you, you were able to make out several accent tables decorated with stone busts, a large glass chandelier hanging above, and two grand staircases on either side of you. With no hint of artificial light anywhere in the vicinity, the only source of light was the sliver of moonlight shining through the windows.

“She’s moving him out,” Sam answered. “They’re in the west wing of the third floor working their way down right now. Looks like she’s comin’ straight to you.”

“Careful with her,” Steve said. “We don’t know what she’s capable of.”

“Last I heard, she leveled a whole downtown street for no apparent reason. LEOs couldn’t find the perp, but S.H.I.E.L.D. intel was able to pin it on her,” Natasha said.

“Intel’s good on this one, too,” you said. “It’s gotta be the doctor she has with her. She doesn’t even know we’re here.”

“Guess I’ll be bringing the party down to you,” Natasha told you.

“Wait,” said Steve. “Nobody take action yet. It’s better to catch her unaware. I’ll make my way down to the first floor and we’ll herd her in from the north, south, and the opposite of whichever staircase she takes.”

“I’ll meet you two down there then,” Natasha said.

“I’ll be here,” you said.

With Bucky staying behind to man the jet that sat farther among the trees, the remaining four of you were currently on the ground at a Châteauesque mansion deep in the Pennsylvania woods, where S.H.I.E.L.D. intel had gathered that the mansion was the location of a missing prominent scientist by the name of Dr. Debarros, and that the proprietor of the mansion, Margaret Vauxhall, was indeed a newly enhanced human who’d kidnapped the scientist for reasons widely speculated but unconfirmed.

Waiting in vigilant silence along the dark foyer wall, you let a small part of your mind wander to the extent of the woman’s powers. None of you knew exactly what you were dealing with, but if what Natasha said was true, in addition to Sam’s observation about one of them hovering while on the move, she had some form of telekinesis.

“Remind me again why we didn’t bring Wanda,” you whispered harshly into your comm.

But an answer was never to come, seeing as a red, silver, and blue shield was flying through the dark. Straight towards you.

“Get out of the way!”

You didn’t need Steve’s shout to spur you into action. With a quick dive, you dodged his shield and watched as it impaled itself right into the oak paneling where you’d stood a second ago with a resounding crash. Your head darted up and what you saw had you immediately back on your feet. On the second floor landing, Steve was floating well above the ground, encased in a vibrant sheen of green. He floated slowly to the left and soon another figure was entering your view. Appearing from around the corner was a middle-aged woman of average build who held up her right hand as a means to incapacitate Steve. She had to be the one to throw his shield. Behind her, controlled with her left hand and encased in an identical green glow, was a small pudgy man, bound by rope along his torso and legs as a precaution. The scientist.

Though Steve was straining from the effort of breaking free, there wasn’t much else he could do. Turning to the wall, you braced one foot against the paneling and pulled at the shield, though it remained firmly lodged in there. You heard a loud grunt and twisted your neck to find Natasha squirming atop Vauxhall’s shoulders, supplying the side of her neck with the electroshock baton. Vauxhall writhed in pain before her left arm gave out and the green glow around Dr. Debarros faded and he was dropped to the floor, wriggling in a fruitless attempt at escape. Her right hand, however, managed to stay upright enough so that Steve remained in her hold.

“Let. Go,” Natasha grunted above Vauxhall as she dug the baton deeper.

You pulled at the shield with double the effort. Your arms were about to give out when at last you heard the sound of splintering wood. Then, cracking. The force knocked you onto your backside, but Steve’s shield was finally in your grip. Rising, you pulled out your gun and aimed at Vauxhall.

“Do it,” Natasha yelled just before she was captured in a slightly less potent field of green and flung across the corridor, around the corner and past your vision with a loud crash.

You pulled the trigger twice, then watched as the space in front of Vauxhall was shaded in green before hurriedly bringing the shield up for cover just as a _clang! clang!_ sounded against the metal and two bullets dropped at your feet. Lowering the shield, you spied Vauxhall’s smirk.

“You really thought bullets would stop me?”

“What do you want with Dr. Debarros?”

She simply huffed out a condescending breath of laughter and shook her head.

You nodded towards Steve, then looked at Dr. Debarros, who’d taken to rolling farther away before Vauxhall set her boot on him. “Let him go. Both of them. We’ll give you the help you need. You don’t need them.”

She looked up at Steve. “You’re right. I don’t.”

Then, just as you thought she was going to send him crashing somewhere, Steve’s shield was wrenched from your hands to land on the herringbone floor. Then the green glow was surrounding you and you were rendered immobile moments before you were flying through the side corridor and deeper into the house, stopping only when you crashed into the wall. A second crash sounded not too long after, and in the midst of your groaning, you saw Steve slam onto the floor where you’d stood before, reaching for his shield as he recovered. With the wind still knocked out of you, you were barely able to make out Vauxhall’s voice coming from out of sight.

“I hope you don’t mind the state of the east wing. It’s been in dire need of renovation for ages.”

Then Steve was sent flying in the air again, this time towards you. You managed to get up, heart racing at the powerlessness you had in stopping him, but then he crash-landed right before you on the rickety floorboards with enough force to plow straight through the wood. On instinct, you reached over to grab any part of him you could, but the momentum was too great, and in no time, you were falling through the hole in the floor right after him.

He broke your fall. You landed right on top of him, and right underneath him was his shield he’d managed to maneuver under himself to absorb some of the impact. It was quite the picture, the pair of you. You were a messy pile, chests heaving as pained sounds left your throat. It was when you managed to get one hand on the floor for leverage to lift yourself slightly off of his body that you became aware of the arms wrapped around you. He’d broken your fall, and he was holding you. He lay beneath you, eyes pinched shut in pain, breaths filtering unevenly through his open mouth. When his arms slid across your back to release you, every point of contact burned and etched itself into your skin, and even in your battered state, you imagined yourself taking his arms and sliding them back around you. Instead, with sore legs, you braced a single knee on the floor, in firm contact with Steve’s thigh as you did so, and flopped away, landing on your back alongside him.

“You ok?” were the first words out of his mouth.

Still panting, you answered, “I should be asking you that. You’re the one she turned into her personal rag doll.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, eyes still closed, though they were no longer screwed up in discomfort. He was recovered already. “Let’s not bring that up again.” Then he sat up and spoke into his comm. “Sam. The fight’s coming to you. Vauxhall’s on the move and she still has the doctor.”

“Copy that.”

“Tap into Bucky’s channel and tell him we need another pair of eyes on her from above.”

“Got it, Cap.”

You sat up as Steve rose to his feet and returned his shield onto his back. “Natasha, you there?”

A slight groan of discomfort came from her end. “I’m ok. She managed to knock me out. Please tell me you have them.”

“No can do. Bucky and Sam are going to need your help. Steve and I fell through the floor.” You saw him glance at you from the corner of your eye as he surveyed the room.

“You what?”

You were looking around what looked to be a lab, lit up minimally with the glow of electronic devices on standby, when Steve answered for you.

“We’ll find a way out. Just go and help the others.”

She sighed and said, “See you on the flip side,” before the line went silent.

A hand appeared in front of you, and you looked up to find Steve’s eyes on you. You gripped his hand with yours as he laid a guiding hand on your back to help you rise. “What is this place?”

“Looks like a lab of some sort,” he said. “Why am I not surprised there’s a secret lair?”

You were keenly aware that your hand was still in his heavy grip and that his other hand had yet to be removed from your back. As you looked around, you spotted what looked to be an elevator at the far end of the room. “There’s our way out.”

He followed your gaze. “I saw that, but it looks like you need a passcode to access it.”

“Well, no harm in trying, right?”

Though you were loath to extricate yourself from his grip, you were determined to get out of there, so you approached the elevator with Steve following close behind. There was no way you were going to guess the correct code, but you tried anyway, and after five failed attempts, you were locked out. You pounded the pad with a fist in frustration, regretting your rushed attempts. Maybe if you’d taken more time, you could’ve deduced what the code was somehow.

“Makes no difference,” he said as he turned away. “We never would’ve guessed it in five tries.”

You turned and watched his retreating figure before you drew your gaze up to the large splintered hole in the ceiling. It was high, but maybe with enough maneuvering and stacking of objects you’d be able to reach it. Steve, on the other hand, you were sure would have an easier time even with less resources. Surveying the room for tall, movable objects—though, really, they were all movable with Steve’s strength on your side—you were struck with another idea.

“Think we should take a closer look around here, see what this place is all about? It might tell us about Vauxhall’s plan.”

“A team from S.H.I.E.L.D. will be here after us. They’ll be collecting all the evidence they need. Our mission is to rescue Dr. Debarros and bring Vauxhall in.”

You sighed and moved to sit on a bench along the wall. Steve leaned back against the opposite table, crossing his arms. He watched you silently, the glow of the idle electronics catching him from behind so that he was easily visible to you.

You furrowed a brow. “What are we doing?”

He stilled. “What?”

“Here, what are we doing here? Why are we just sitting around? We’re supposed to be getting out of here so we can help the others.”

He regained the movement in his shoulders as he watched you get up and circle the room in search of objects to push around. He shook his head lightly, more to himself, it seemed. “I’ve been distracted.”

That made you pause. You turned to him. “By what?”

He didn’t answer and instead moved to where you stood, nodding somewhere to his left. “That fridge, I can move it. Then we’ll be outta here.”

Suddenly distinctly aware of his close proximity, you nodded without looking at him and watched as he unplugged the steel fridge before pushing it under the hole in the ceiling like it was nothing, though you tried to help in an attempt not to feel useless. Then you noticed there were no surfaces within a reasonable distance off of which you could launch yourself onto the fridge. Steve noticed the same thing.

You were surprised when his hands came up to grip your waist from behind.

“Ready?”

His warm voice in your ear was the only warning you received before you were hauled into the air. Your hands flew to his in an attempt to balance yourself.

“I got you,” he said.

Then there was a moment you knew would stay with you for a long time. Your hands covering Steve’s, his fingers gripping your waist tight, his gloves digging into your suit. For the briefest of moments, you ached to be able to run your fingers over his, freely and unabashedly. His touch was so firm, so sure. What would it be like to know that touch under different circumstances? But those thoughts were pushed to the side when he raised you closer to the top of the fridge.

“Can you get it?” he asked.

Your fingers slid from his to grip the fridge. “Yeah.”

You were able to get your elbows on the surface and pull yourself up. In assistance, one of Steve’s hands left your waist and grasped your upper thigh, but not before it grazed heavily over your butt.

“Sorry, sorry.” He cleared his throat. You didn’t have to see him to know he’d probably turned pink.

“It’s ok.” His grip on your upper thigh proved to be helpful. He pushed you up further until you were safely on top. You eyed the hole above you. “There’s no way I can get a good grip on that thing.”

Steve stood below you with his hands on his hips. “Well, there is one way you can get through it.”

You quirked your brow at him from your position above.

“I can throw you out.”

“What?”

“Hold tight, I’m coming up.”

In a mere second, he had performed a slight jump until his hands were locked around the top of the fridge and he was pulling himself up with little effort. He landed right beside you on the meager surface, a crooked smile painting his lips. You smiled automatically in return. Then he took your hand and pulled you up to stand alongside him, your fronts brushing each other with every breath.

“Listen, um…” you started, “thanks for breaking my fall earlier. It could’ve ended real bad, huh?”

His smile was relaxed, easy. “Well, thanks for trying to keep me from falling in.”

“Even though it was totally worthless.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

You bit your lip to hold back an ear-to-ear grin, and Steve’s gaze flickered down to it. He squeezed your hand. “So you ready to be hurled through the air?”

“If I have to, I guess I’d rather it be Captain America of all people,” you said as he positioned you in front of him and placed his hands on your hips. “Maybe you should make a thing out of it, open up a booth at the fair. Charge people for every turn they get.”

The breath of his faint laughter tickled your ear as he handed you his shield, presumably to cushion your fall. “Charge more for every longer distance they want to be thrown.”

“Exactly. You’d probably make as much bank as Tony.” Judging from the extra set of butterflies in your stomach, you were almost positive you weren’t imagining the gentle sweep of his thumbs across your hips.

“I have to…I need better leverage if I’m going to throw you. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright with that.”

“Do whatever you need.”

You could feel the slight hesitation in his hands as they moved from your hips to just below your butt, the same spot he’d had one hand on when he pushed you onto the fridge.

“Hold onto my shoulders if you need to.”

At your nod, he bent at the knee and lifted you. You reached for his firm shoulders as you sought your balance.

“Ready?”

“Just throw me in the air, captain.”

A clipped breath escaped his lips. “You can’t—”

You twisted your neck to catch a glimpse of his indecipherable expression. “Huh?”

He shook his head and you turned back around. “On the count of three. One, two—”

“Wait, wait, do you mean on three or after three? That saying is always so vague—”

“After three,” he answered with a tiny laugh.

“Ok. After three.”

He tightened his grip on you. “One, two, three.”

Then you were launched into the air, clear through the fragmented opening, and landing on top of Steve’s shield with a thud.

“You good?”

You rose to one knee and moved to the opening where you spied Steve directly below. “I’m good. Now use your crazy stupid parkour skills and let’s get out of here.”

He graced you with that smile that crinkled his eyes as you made room for his escape. When he maneuvered himself out and landed next to you on the floor, the two of you simply shared a long look before you both burst into soundless laughter.

“What a day,” you said as you rose and held out a hand for him to stand. Though you both knew he needed no help, he clasped your hand anyway and pulled himself up. Then Sam’s voice rang through your ear.

“Hey, guys, you get out of that hole yet? We got ’em. Vision flew Maximoff in and she was able to bring Vauxhall down. We also got Debarros. Turns out she was using him to get rid of her powers since he’s a geneticist.”

“She wants to get rid of her powers?” Steve asked.

“Guess she found out the enhanced lifestyle ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Where you guys at?”

“We’re still at the mansion,” you said. “Pick us up?”

“Can do.”

When the conversation ended and you lifted your gaze, Steve’s eyes were already on you. Again, there was that indecipherable expression that had you shifting on your feet, unsure of where to look. You glanced down at the shield still in your possession. “Here you go. Not so easy to wield.”

He took it slowly. “Suits you, you know.”

“What?”

“When you use it. It’s not a bad look.”

“Am I to be the next bearer of the famed shield?”

His eyes flickered to your mouth again before he looked to the floor. “I meant…”

You knew what he meant. You were no longer able to ignore it. Not with the way he’d held you close one floor below, however necessary it might have been. Not with the way he’d caressed your hip, looked at your lips, displayed every sign all those countless other times. But it frightened you. It intimidated you. Because somehow, realizing Steve returned your feelings was scariest of all.

The air around you was different now, every particle charged with an unspoken desire. And though your heart was pounding in your ears, your every nerve was alight with sparks, and your only wish was for him to wrap those sturdy arms around you, you simply watched as the man before you shook his head.

“Never mind.”

You gulped and took in a much needed breath. _Later_ , your mind whispered. Now was neither the time nor place to get into it.

So as you headed outside in wait for the others to come back, the only talk between you two was of the mission, and when the others swung back around to pick you up, you entered the quinjet without a glance at him. And when he seated himself along the opposite wall for the journey back, you pretended not to notice the way his piercing blue eyes were fixed on you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Sorry x1000 for being so crummy with consistent updates. Please don’t hate me. >.< And nbd, but just thought I’d mention I changed up the main summary of this fic.
> 
> 2) So, my neck of the woods is/was set to be hit by the strongest hurricane it’s seen in decades, so I’m currently at my broha’s place with the fam, where there are no large trees in the immediate vicinity. Storm prep has, of course, been hectic and frustrating at times. Thankfully, it’s weakened a bit, but we’re not quite in the clear yet. Let’s hope everything turns out ok and the damage isn’t too severe and the power doesn't go out. *crosses fingers* I’m fortunate enough to be farther inland but if anyone reading this happens to be from the coast or any other area in its path and/or has been evacuated, please stay safe!
> 
> 3) In case anyone’s interested: [“Your Song”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NpFa63KDJk&frags=pl%2Cwn) by Kate Walsh often helps me get in the mindset for this story. It’s quiet and pretty and a little heartbreaking in all the right ways, and the lyrics are perfect for some of that sweet Steve/Reader pining. <3

“So, what is this exhibit again?” Wanda asked as the pair of you stepped off the elevator to cross the lobby.

“Something about magic realism and political commentary? I don’t really remember. You’ll have to ask Jack.”

“You and he are getting pretty close, aren’t you?”

“As _friends_ , yes. I guess.”

“Hm. Wonder how Steve’s taking it.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure he’s taking it just fine. People are allowed to have friends, Wanda.”

“Of course. I’m just saying…”

“You say a lot of things, Wanda.” You nudged her in the side before looking forward once again. Then you did a quick double-take when your eyes landed on Agent Carter. Entering the building in a cream mod dress and black thigh-high boots, she was the picture of casual elegance. She offered a polite smile when she caught your eye and continued in your direction, stopping when she approached you and Wanda.

“Hey, you two. You girls look great. Going out?”

“Yes, we’re just meeting up with someone for a night out,” said Wanda.

“Oh, sounds fun. I’m just going up to see Steve,” she said with a gesture in the general direction of the elevators. “We’re supposed to grab a bite to eat together.”

You found your chest felt oddly hollow as you nodded absently. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t often have much free time, so he sort of offered to take me out when he found out I was in town.”

“How nice of him,” said Wanda.

Sharon shrugged lightly in reply.

“Are you in the city for a while?” you asked.

“Just for the weekend. Sort of a mini-vacation, I guess, and I’ve learned to take advantage of those when I can.”

“Well, you definitely deserve it,” said Wanda. “But we don’t want to keep you. We’ll let you get up there. Have a great night, Agent Carter.”

“Oh, please, it’s Sharon,” she said modestly. “We’re off the clock, right?”

You let out something that sounded far too much like a nervous laugh and immediately chided yourself for it. “We’ll see you later, Sharon.”

With a smile of her own, she offered a wave as everyone moved to leave. “Bye, guys, have fun. It was great seeing you.”

After more pleasantries, you and Wanda continued on your way, and it was with your heart in your stomach that you took a quick glance back as Sharon pressed the button for the elevator.

And in that moment, you were overcome with an inordinate amount of relief that you hadn’t confronted Steve following the mission. Glad you hadn’t made a fool of yourself by bringing up the feelings that were, realistically, likely nonexistent on his end. As you were wont to do, you’d tried to talk yourself into believing that perhaps you were mistaken. That perhaps you’d interpreted those lingering touches, those looks that spoke of longing, through the lens of a wishful thinker. And on the off chance you turned out to be correct in that aspect, it didn’t mean he harbored any significant feelings for you, but merely that he somehow found you appealing on a strictly physical level. And judging by the way Sharon was currently on her way up to his apartment before going out with him at his request, he was looking for something else, something unknown that you couldn’t offer. Something more.

An elbow gently nudged your side. “You and Jack are just friends, aren’t you?”

Wanda gave you a meaningful look and you knew what she meant. You yourself were about to meet up with another man, one whom you regarded as simply a friend; and though Steve himself had told you he and Sharon were just friends, it didn’t make it any easier to abolish the visions in your head of them side by side, gracing the world with their picture-perfect might.

You tried to do so anyway, but in vain, if the inability to turn the corners of your lips into even the smallest of sad smiles was any indication.

  


* * *

  


“This one I can get behind. It really hearkens back to that teenage angst that informs so much of our youth. Oh, who am I kidding, it looks like a horse pissed on a giant haystack and Cabbage Patch Kids grew out of it.” Following his remark, Jack glanced around to make sure no one heard.

“That’s oddly specific.”

He threw you a sheepish grin. “My sister’s an artist. I grew up learning how to decode her art in pretty colorful terms.”

“I think she’d kick your ass if she heard what you were saying tonight.”

“Oh, please, she’d love it.”

It was your second tour around the gallery and you and he were waiting for Wanda to use the restroom before calling it a night.

“What do you think about this one? It’s sort of Daliesque, isn’t it?” He examined a brass statue of a willowy female figure you’d missed before.

But he didn’t receive an answer, seeing as you were busy dealing with the heavy lurch of your stomach at the sudden sight of Steve and Sharon across the gallery, nearer to the entrance. In a reflexive move, you quickly spun on your heels so that your back was to them. Somewhere behind you, the pair stood chatting with someone who you’d earlier gathered was the artist. Of all the galleries with openings in the city, what were the chances they’d show up at the exact same one you were at?

Jack easily noticed your quick shift in demeanor. “What’s goin’ on?”

“What? Nothing.” Your eyes flickered sideways between him and the statue.

He chuckled. “You’re pretty weird, you know that?”

“Uh-huh.” Your body was as stiff as a board.

“Let’s go check out that one wall we didn’t get to before. Looks like people’ve cleared out.” He jerked his head in the direction somewhere behind him, closer to where Steve and Sharon were.

“Uh—I don’t—um, maybe we can—”

When he eyed you again, it was with slightly more suspicion. “What’re you trying to hide?” When you didn’t answer, he tried, “Avoid?”

You cleared your throat and avoided his gaze, sure he would be able to detect your lie, though you were sure your body language was already doing a top-notch job of giving you away. You made a conscious effort of loosening both the set of your shoulders and the grip on your clutch. “No, I just really like this statue. It’s different, you know? I still haven’t read all the information about it.”

“Well, when you’re done taking all that in, I’ll be over there.” His eyes danced with confusion and amusement before you nodded stiffly and he was gone.

Great. Now they might see him, which might lead to small talk, which might lead to him gesturing over to where you stood alone. You couldn’t even turn around to see where Steve and Sharon currently were without risking them noticing you, even with the safety net of the smattering of people between you and them. Instead, you slowly and casually circled the statue until you ended up on the other side, fully aware of how ridiculous you were being. With much of your body hidden from view, you edged to the side so that your eye was aligned with one of the openings in the statue. Through it, you could see Steve and Sharon slowly making their way closer.

You stiffened and turned to move farther away, but quickly found the open space to be utterly lacking in hiding spots. There were no nooks or vertical surfaces to dodge behind, only clusters of people stationed along a wall of paintings.

You were about to retreat to the statue when you heard Jack call out your name among the chatter. You froze, your back to him. Pretending you didn’t hear him wasn’t going to work. So, slowly and carefully, you twisted around, unsure of what you would find.

Sure enough, along the aforementioned wall, Jack now stood with the very pair you were trying to avoid. Three pairs of eyes were set on you. Jack waved you over, and it was impossible to decline. With measured steps, you made your way over to the group, pretending not to notice the way Steve’s gaze was trained solely on you.

“We just ran into each other. I was telling ’em we were here together,” said Jack.

You nodded. “Oh.”

More than one person shifted on their feet as an awkward silence fell over the group.

“We just wanted to say hi,” Sharon eventually offered. “I didn’t know you were coming here tonight. Small world, huh?”

“Yeah, I didn’t realize you’d be coming here,” you said.

“Oh, well, I know the artist. I didn’t realize he had a new showing until a couple hours ago, so after we ate, we figured, why not?”

Silence quickly fell over the group again as you and Steve met each other’s eyes, and even Sharon seemed to be at a loss as to what else to offer.

Then Steve was gesturing between you and Jack. His voice sounded gravelly, like he’d had to muster enough energy to speak. “Well, uh, we’ll let you two get back to your date.”

Before you could correct him, he’d turned as best as he could without seeming too hasty and was off in the other direction. The three of you watched him go, though your gaze lingered on his retreating back longer than the others’ against your will. And though you were sure it made no difference to her, you felt compelled to clarify things with Sharon.

“It’s not a date.” When you looked to Jack for support, he simply looked from you to her with a tight-lipped shrug.

“Right, no worries,” she said, eyes flitting back and forth between you and Jack with a subtle, curious look. “I mean, I know Wanda’s here, too, so…”

Then, with the graceful tact you wished you possessed, she exchanged pleasantries with the two of you once more and bid you farewell before going on her way, presumably off to find Steve.

“Well. That was awkward,” Jack said simply just as Wanda reappeared.

“Sorry, long wait,” she said. “I saw you ran into Sharon.”

“And Captain Rogers,” Jack added.

“Really?” Her brows were raised.

“You ready to go?” you said.

She let the quick change in subject slide, even as she looked at you for a second too long. “Yes, I’m ready.”

The three of you eventually made your way out, and you tried not to think about the two people who stayed behind.

  


* * *

  


“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” You stepped off the elevator and into the penthouse, which had been designed so that visitors could come up only with the permission of the owner. As such, Tony had given his A.I. express orders to allow you in while he was attending to business on the west coast.

“You’re welcome. It should also be noted that Tony has asked me to remind you not to steal from his supply of blueberry sweets.”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure Pepper puts those out there for guests to eat.”

You wound your way through the expansive room to get to your destination. The large picture board hung near the bar, its photos scattered along the upright surface. You smiled at the range in tone, from the guilelessness of the candid shots where someone was caught mid-laugh, to the more grudging where the subject glared at the photographer upon discovering the camera was aimed at them.

It was a simple pleasure, having the collection of photos to gaze at, but sometimes, all anyone needed was simple. As you stared at the photos, a peculiar sense of detachment came over you, and you saw the images through a different lens. Before you was a memento of friendship, of camaraderie, the kind you’d least expected to find. At last, you belonged somewhere.

You let your gaze slide up and to the left until it landed on the picture of you and Steve at the park that one day, when Wanda had sent you colliding into the other’s side. It was the only picture of the two of you together and, frankly, still as cringe-inducing as the day you first saw it.

Shaking your thoughts from your head, you went over to the long, sleek accent table where the others had piled up the pictures they’d taken on their own time. It wasn’t too hefty a stack, so you figured you’d take your time sifting through them before going about your task of arranging them on the board. You didn’t get far, however.

You were laughing at a picture that had captured you twisting a grumbling Bucky’s mid-length hair into a small braid when the elevator opened. Jumping slightly, you turned to look, and to your surprise, the person stepping into the penthouse was Steve. He didn’t notice you immediately; instead, he glanced off to the side as he pocketed his phone and made his way further into the room.

You were not prepared to be alone with him. It’d been days since your meeting at the art gallery and you hadn’t truly spoken since. Unsure of how to signal your presence, you made a weird, tentative wave with the polaroids in your hand until he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. When he quickly turned his head and saw who it was, he faltered in his steps for just a fraction of a second—impossible to miss—before attempting a casual approach. He stopped with a noticeable gap between you and nodded towards the photos.

“You here to deal with those?”

“Yeah,” you said carefully. “Are you?”

He took a second to answer, seemingly distracted by his thoughts. He stepped closer until he landed next to you, his attention on the selection spread out on the table’s surface. “Yeah.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“Wasn’t expecting you.”

“Oh.” Your reply came out as a half-statement, half-question.

He gave you a wry look. “Let me guess, Tony didn’t tell you I’d be here either?”

“Uh, no, he didn’t. But whatever, it’s not like it’s a big deal,” you rushed out, waving it off. “We’ll just do it together. It’ll be faster anyway.”

“Ah.” His shoulders slumped in a mild show of exasperation. “Tony.”

Immediately, you felt the slight sting of his reluctance to be there, alone with you. By this point, you were over those fanciful delusions you’d held about him returning any of your feelings—in fact, it downright embarrassed you knowing you’d even entertained the idea. Any words or actions you’d erroneously interpreted were merely manifestations of his general character: he was courteous and respectful to most people, provided it was in the context of everyday life. He knew what it was to be the underdog, to be underestimated, the odd one out, and tried in his own way to make sure those he valued, perhaps cared about, didn’t go unheard or suffer from those same feelings of inadequacy. You’d grown to be friends, and it wouldn’t be a huge revelation to know he’d come to care at least somewhat for your wellbeing. After all, there was no doubt that you returned the sentiment.

“But like you said, it’s no big deal,” he said as he sifted through the pictures. “So, uh, how do you wanna do this?”

“Huh?”

“How do you wanna arrange these?” He brought his eyes up to meet yours and he looked so serious about his task, so earnest, so _good_ with the way his lashes hooded his crystal blue eyes and his tongue darted out to wet his fleshy bottom lip, that it took you a second to remember he was waiting for your response.

“Um, well, there’s no really right way, I think,” you said. “Besides, people can just move these around if they really want. I was just going to make sure the people are spread around a bit so that no one’s too clustered around a single spot. But that’s it, really.”

He nodded and continued perusing the photos. His mouth lifted at one of them. “I remember this. It’s from when Bucky and I went down to Coney Island last month.” He held it out so you could see.

You smiled. “I saw that. You guys look good. You know, relaxed.”

“Took a while, though. The place sure has changed. But what else did I expect, right?”

You simply nodded as you went through your own stack and started pinning some of them up. “Hey, how’s that picture of the Brooklyn Bridge looking over at your place? Has it found a home there yet?”

He chuckled. “It has. It’s hanging in the living room, right above the bookshelf.” He watched you for a second before going back to his task. “And, uh, hey, thanks again, you know, for the photo. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s not a big deal.” You hoped your reply came off as casual.

“I guess not, but, it’s just, you know, people don’t do that all that often.”

“What?”

“Give me things that remind me of—” He stopped suddenly, expression turning solemn. “Give me things, I mean. Or go out of their way to do it.”

You attempted to appear to be keeping busy as Steve beside you did, but you couldn’t keep your thoughts from wandering to the first half of his statement and why he’d abruptly cut himself off. Biting your lip in uncertainty, you asked, “Give you things that remind you of what?”

He looked at you steadily for a moment, then played it off with a head shake and tiny laugh. “Well, I was going to say ‘home.’ But then I remembered it’s not really so much of that anymore.”

Again, your heart ached for him, for the deep-seated need to prove to him the home he had here, in the present. His past would always be a part of him, no doubt, but so help you if you were going to let him carry on pretending he wasn’t lost, that he wasn’t at times overcome with such intense bouts of homesickness and longing for something that had already come and gone. And you thought you were certain of this only because you knew you would feel the exact same way.

You pinned your last picture up with a decidedly gentle press and stepped back, silently observing Steve. He was almost done but seemed to be taking his time, having got stuck looking at each photo in his hand with a singular kind of attentiveness.

“Are you happy, Steve?”

He stilled, then turned his attention over his shoulder to you. He didn’t repeat the question, or pretend he hadn’t heard. Instead, he let his eyes rest on you for an eternity of a moment longer before his gaze fell and he turned back around to pin his last picture to the board. “Now, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”

And so, with no conscious thought on your end, you found yourself stepping up to him and clasping your hand around his arm. He turned automatically, a flash of surprise on his face, before you were gathering him into your arms as best you could, filling your senses with the scent of his leather jacket mingled with something that was purely him. He felt sturdy and warm and solid and _right_.

He was also utterly still, making no move to return your embrace.

Suddenly embarrassed, you began to pull away, when you felt two firm hands grip your waist to hinder your retreat. Then he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against him so that there was no chance of escape, all the while oblivious to the dizzying sensation swirling through you from head to toe. His nose ghosted over your hair and the breath of his faint chuckle tickled your cheek ever so slightly. You were sure if you turned your head, you would be able to kiss him.

“Now, what’s this for?” His voice was gentle, playful.

Though it would go unseen, you bit your lip in an effort to keep steady. “Just being a friend, Rogers.”

You felt his chest rise and fall with every breath, as close to you as he was, before he drew back the slightest bit. He kept his arms around you, gazing at you in curious contemplation. Time seemed to slow down as the air around you grew heavy.

Then, before you could register it, he was slowly leaning in, his face drawing closer to yours. Everything moved in slow motion, his lips a sweet promise on the horizon. Your eyes were nearly closed in surrender, ready to give in.

But, at the last second, you were jerked back to full awareness, and you turned your head the slightest degree just as his lips came down on the corner of your mouth, his nose brushing your cheek. Both of you remained still, processing what had just occurred, but, at last, you moved first with a placating touch to the sleeve of his jacket. He didn’t pay much heed to it, it appeared, and drew further away, eyes not meeting yours.

How could you tell him you would’ve gladly surrendered to his kiss if not for the fact you were almost certain he was just confused, would only come to regret the kiss if it did come to pass?

“I-I’m sorry.” You stepped out from underneath the cage of his arms and noted how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly.

He shook his head as if to clear away his thoughts and, still, he didn’t meet your eye. His voice came out deep and hoarse. “I, uh.” A lick of his lips.

“It’s just—” You couldn’t form the words. How could you mention he had someone like Sharon waiting for him, even if he insisted they were just friends?

He shook his head again. “No, I get it. Metzler. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You were instantly confused. “Jack? No, he doesn’t have anything to do with this—I-I told you, we’re—”

“Just friends, yeah, I got it.”

You furrowed your brow. “What’s wrong with you?”

His clipped laugh lacked any humor. “You know, for a smart woman, you can be pretty dense sometimes.”

“What? What are you even talking about? Steve, all I was gonna say was that—Sharon. You have Sharon.”

“I _have_ Sharon?”

“Yes, you _have_ her. I know you say you’re just friends, but I don’t know, maybe she’s what you need, maybe you just— _think_ you like me, I don’t—”

“You’re saying I don’t know my own feelings?” He lowered his brow, and the look he gave you turned your heart to ice.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

His hands were low on his hips, his head angled towards the floor. “You know, I thought you got it. I thought you got me. That talk about the others pushing me to find someone? How you said you didn’t agree with it? Guess it was just something to say, huh?”

“What? No, I wasn’t lying, I still—I—” Inside, you were panicking.

“Then why do you keep pushing Sharon on me? Even after I told you I feel nothing for her?”

“ _Steve_. You don’t get it.”

“Get _what_?”

“I’m not the one you end up with!”

He went silent immediately. His hard expression let up only a tiny fraction, minutely, but you caught it. Your face was burning and the words spilled from your mouth without your consent.

“I’m not the one you end up with,” you said again, more quietly.

“What are you _talking_ about?”

“What do you think I’m talking about? You’re— _you_ , and I’m me, and it’s just not how the world works.”

“According to who?”

“Everyone!”

“For fuck’s sake—” You didn’t even have time to process the word that had just fallen from his lips before he was capturing your forearm in a tight grip. “I honestly didn’t think you were one to worry about that kind of stuff. Who gives a damn what other people think? I’ve gone through enough of that and I’m sick of it.” He released your arm only to gesture wildly at you. “And—and it’s not even like you’re completely out of the realm of possibility or anything. You’re an Avenger, for God’s sake. We’re a team, we know each other. And even if you weren’t, so what? You’re so much more than what the world sees and _so am I_ and—”

“I _know_ —”

“—if people you don’t even know gossip or disapprove like they have any right, so what? Screw them. Life isn’t a movie or a-a book. Society shouldn’t get to dictate who does what, who ends up with who. You see those pictures? They’re seconds—not even—in the lives of the people up there. They look a certain way, come off one way to the rest of the world, but we know who they really are behind the pictures. We don’t see them as unmoving objects, as ideas. They’re living, breathing people with free will who can do damn well as they please.” After a heavy pause and exhale, he seemed to lose steam then, closing his eyes momentarily as a conclusion to his tirade. “I’m just sick of people thinking they know what’s best for me,” he said more softly.

You had no words. Nothing that would amount to the depths of what you felt. And now, most of all, you feared you’d lost him for good with the spoken sentiments you wished so desperately you could take back. “I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t think that, Steve. Not at all. Even though I know I just said—” You shook your head. “I know you’re more than what the world sees. I’m just a mess. A coward. Too afraid to face my own feelings.”

His expression remained severe. “We’re only human. You think I don’t drown in self-doubt on a regular basis?” You didn’t answer, and he nodded gently, cynically to himself. “Tony’s due back soon. I should head out.”

“Wait, Steve—”

“No, I…I get it now.” And that was all he said before he was walking away, heading for the elevator. You didn’t even have the willpower to watch him go until the last second when he stepped through the doors. You turned your head and across the room, Steve had his attention set on you, and you knew what it was behind those eyes. Resignation. A kind of sadness.

The doors closed in a matter of seconds and you were left alone in the vast, quiet room, just as you were before and just as you’d come to expect you would be for a long time to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides* I really don’t know about this chapter. I’m so sorry. I know, I knowww, Reader is just screwing herself over but hey, we’ve all managed to talk ourselves into debilitating uncertainty, right? So many misunderstandingz. :-X


	7. Chapter 7

Half a month went by and you and Steve still hadn’t uttered more than two sentences to each other.

The first was during another team bonding night where you and he’d somehow ended up in the kitchen together. He’d walked in, clearly not expecting to come upon you if the brief falter in his steps was any indication, and continued ahead to the stainless steel fridge. He’d stood with his back to you in front of the varied selection for a considerable amount of time, and you knew what he was searching for. You were at the counter making yourself tea, and after a tense silence during which your gaze kept flitting back to him and his unmoving stance, you hesitated before telling him, “The lemonade’s all out.” He’d nodded, back still to you, and reached in to grab something just as your legs had regained their movement and were taking you back to the main area.

The second sentence was on the quinjet just before you’d all arrived at the coordinates for your next mission. He’d coolly and confidently spelled out the strategy for everyone before the group dispersed, with you retreating to a nearby seat where you zipped up your black duffel bag only for your headphones to spill out, the tail of the cord unraveling at the tip of his boots. He’d glanced down, then at you, before smoothly scooping them up and tossing them your way.

“Thought you’d’ve invested in wireless by now.”

With no verbal response to offer, you’d simply lifted one shoulder in a shrug before throwing them back in the bag.

If you were braver, you would’ve gone up to him at any point following the heated exchange in the penthouse and cleared the whole mess up. Told him you _did_ get him, or you thought you did, and that he was right, that the rest of the world didn’t matter and that they shouldn’t hold that much power over you. All this you would’ve done before possibly launching yourself at him and pouring all your built-up energy into a long, weighted kiss.

As it was, you weren’t that brave, and you’d gone on pretending everything was fine for the others, that you weren’t riddled with anxiety and regret over what you’d said and done and that you weren’t at a complete and utter loss as to where to go from there.

“Y’ok, pal?” Bucky asked quietly.

It was just you, him, and Steve this time, en route to another mission in which your task was to capture a notorious arms dealer responsible for the death of hundreds of people while he gallivanted around the globe, living the high life. You sat sideways along the seats with your back to the sleek industrial wall of the jet, the sole of your boots nearly touching Bucky, who sat at the front of your view, digging into his sandwich. Steve sat up front to man the jet.

“Yeah?”

“I only ask ’cause you got that face again. Y’know, the one where you’re thinking too hard about something.”

“Yeah, I think a lot,” you said offhandedly.

“I know you do. Sometimes too much.” He regarded you for a second before holding out his sandwich. “PB&J?” You shook your head. “More for me.”

“How much longer is it gonna take to get there?”

“What, eager to get all dolled up before you deliver swift justice to some creep?”

You let out a heavy exhale, swinging your legs over the seats so that you sat adjacent to him. “‘Creep’ is far too kind a word for what someone like Moretti deserves.”

“Trust me. I’m just waiting for the moment I can get my hands on the guy.” He watched your leg bob up and down. “What’re you so restless for? You’ve been like this for the past couple o’ weeks.”

Your movements slowed to a stop. “You’ve noticed?”

“Hell yeah, I’ve noticed. Former HYDRA weapon, remember? Wouldn’t’ve been so good at my job if I didn’t notice things like that.”

You sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Y’know, if you’re gonna be in this business, you should at least make an effort to work on your lying. Keep tellin’ Steve that, but I think it’s just hardwired into him. Strong moral compass and all that.”

“He’s not a saint. He’ll lie if he has to,” you said, and it wasn’t an accusation.

“So, what’s goin’ on with you and him?” He received a scowl in return. “What? You’ve made friends with us all by now, but you’re not _that_ quick to defend the rest of us.”

You floundered. “Maybe I just haven’t gotten the opportunity to yet.”

“Not to mention how he’s been keeping more to himself lately. Not hard to put two and two together.”

You met his cool, sharp gaze. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is.” He shook his head wryly, muttering to himself, “You and Steve.”

“Watch out for crumbs. You know how Tony gets when he thinks we’re not taking good care of our assets.” You got up and retreated to the center of the jet, where you mindlessly scrolled through the holo-screen to seem busy, hyperaware of the man seated at the helm a short distance behind you.

Not soon enough, the cloaked jet made its descent into the woods on the outskirts of Brussels, and the three of you were soon on your way to the hotel, where you changed into your evening wear, your gun and blade hidden beneath the purple gown. When Steve emerged from the bathroom tying his bowtie, his gaze slid over your form briefly before it flew back up and he was heading for the full-length mirror.

You drove up to the manor first in a black Porsche, after which one of the valet took your keys with nary a look. Your contact. Delicately hitching up the hem of your gown, you ascended the steps of the grand home alongside other guests. Upon making it inside, you were up to your neck in ostentatious displays of opulence. You smoothly wound your way through the interior, passing guests and waitstaff alike. You greeted some with polite smiles so as not to seem too suspicious before ending up near the back of the crowd with a flute of champagne just as your mark appeared at the balcony’s edge, holding his arms out in welcome.

“He’s about to give a speech,” you said in a low voice.

“Copy that. On your ten,” Steve muttered in your ear.

“On your four,” Bucky likewise muttered.

You cast discreet glances at either side of the ballroom, where you found Steve at one end and Bucky at the other, both dressed to the nines. You pretended to listen as Moretti welcomed his guests with a charming smile and performed his speech to the rapt delight of the women, and not a few of the men, in the room. After he finished and bid everyone to enjoy themselves, you tracked him and his curly black hair as he strolled down the large staircase.

“I’m going in.”

“Man, am I looking forward to this,” Bucky said in subdued amusement.

Moretti was in the midst of greeting a woman in a red gown when you lightly bumped into his shoulder.

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” you said, moving as though to dab the splash of liquid you’d spilled on his dress shirt. Two of his guards moved to close in, but he waved them away.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said in his slight Italian accent, pulling out his handkerchief to press delicately against the fabric before his eyes flitted back up to yours, a small smile alight on his lips. It made you want to rip the skin of his mouth off. “I do not believe we’ve met.”

You laughed shyly. “Well, not until now, it seems. God, I’m so sorry about your suit. It’s just like me to do something like this.”

A dimple formed in his left cheek. “It is really no problem, I promise you.”

“The least I could do is pay for your dry cleaning.”

He chuckled. “I admire your willingness, but I assure you, it is unnecessary, Miss…”

“Oh, please, call me Nadia.”

“Nadia,” he said as though testing the name on his lips. “I surely would have noticed a woman like you here before, Nadia. I can tell from your accent you are not from here, though, I suppose, neither am I. Tell me, where are you from?”

Your smile turned coquettish. “Nowhere and everywhere, Mr. Moretti.”

His smile remained in place as his eyes grew darker with interest. “Please, call me Elia. You certainly are a woman of intrigue, are you not?”

“I usually leave that to others to decide.”

He chuckled and offered his arm. “Perhaps you can convince me some more while I procure a new shirt.”

Bucky made a tiny disgusted noise in your ear. “Does he actually think that line works?”

You took Moretti’s arm. “I’d be delighted.”

“Evidently, he does.” Steve’s tone was dry.

Moretti fixed you with what you were sure he thought was an alluring gaze before leading you up the stairs, being greeted by a few others as you passed. You knew Steve and Bucky wouldn’t be far behind. Soon, you were in a private bedroom upstairs, where he told you to make yourself comfortable while he disappeared inside the walk-in closet that might as well have been an entirely different room.

“I know you spilled the champagne on me on purpose, you know,” he said from inside.

Your chest constricted the slightest bit as you surveyed the bedroom, silently pulling open drawers. “Oh?”

He chuckled. “Yes. It’s not the first time a woman has used that trick on me, you see.”

“Yet you played along.” You swiped the gun you found under the mattress and slipped it into your clutch as a precaution.

“I am quite fond of games. Perhaps we can play another one together, eh?”

When he reappeared from the walk-in buttoning up a fresh shirt and turned the corner, you had a gun raised to his chest. “How ’bout we start with this one?”

He put his hands up and slowly backed away.

“To the bed.”

Hands still up, he did as he was told. “Who do you work for?”

“You got a lot of catching up to do if you don’t know the answer to that. Sit.” He sat down. “You should know better than to invite strangers up into your room.”

He affected a casual laugh. “You didn’t appear uninterested.”

“I can be pretty fond of games, too.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m me and you’re you. I know exactly who you are and so do you, so we’re going to step out of this room together like nothing’s wrong and we’re going to go out the back.”

“You won’t get past my guards.”

“I have a feeling I will.”

“How? Huh?” he spit out, looking over your form with disgust. “ _You_ are going to beat them into submission?”

“I don’t have to.”

His eyes glazed over with anger before he was launching off the bed in a foolhardy attempt to attack, but you quickly sidestepped him and captured his arms behind his back in a painful twist. “I knew you wouldn’t shoot,” he said. “Pathetic.”

“Death would be too easy for you,” and you needed him alive.

“Who else is here, huh? They are listening right now?”

“Better than that, I think.”

Just then, the door opened to reveal Steve and Bucky in their tuxedos. They came in, figures rigid and imposing, and Moretti’s nostrils flared. “Avengers? You work with the Avengers?”

“I _am_ an Avenger.”

“This is mostly her show. We’re just here as back-up,” Bucky said.

Moretti laughed, even as he grunted from the pain of his twisted arm. “I always said you could never trust a bella donna.”

“Used the oldest trick in the book and you still fell for it. Doesn’t really say much for your instincts,” you told him.

“No, no, I would not have made it this far in this business without good survival instincts. So, what, you are going to torture me now?”

You thought of all the blood on his hands, the lives he’d knowingly and indirectly taken without a drop of remorse, and a deep, dark part of you wished you could, if only for a second. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Come with us quietly and no one has to get hurt,” said Steve.

“Well, besides your pals down there in all black,” Bucky added. “But it’s a little late for that.”

Moretti’s laugh was clipped and scathing. He twisted his neck towards you. “ _Bitch_.”

In the blink of an eye, he was face to face with Steve, staring into lethal eyes made of stone. Steve, who’d crossed the distance to yank him ruthlessly by the shirt, made his promise loud and clear, though his voice was dangerously low. “Speak to her like that again and there won’t anything left of you for your maids to clean up.”

Moretti’s heavy gulp was visible, even as he attempted to stare Steve down in a show of bravado.

“You going to cooperate?” Steve asked in that deceptively calm tone.

Though his jaw was taut in defiance, Moretti nodded. Without further ado, you and he left the room and traversed the stairs side by side as though nothing was wrong while Bucky and Steve followed separately and a little spread out. You all met at the back of the manor and, with zip ties around his wrists, Moretti was placed in the back of the waiting Porsche. At one point, Bucky nudged you and said, “Hey, how was our entrance? Good, right?” Then you plucked the keys from under the front tire where your contact had placed them and slid into the driver’s seat, hitching your dress up as you went, as Bucky slid into the passenger seat. Steve hopped onto the motorcycle nearby.

“Shame he didn’t put up more of a fight,” said Bucky. “Woulda loved to get in a good sock to the face.”

“Pretty sure guys like him tend not to do the fighting,” you said, sparing Moretti a brief glance in the rearview mirror as you pulled out with Steve on your tail.

Moretti was turned over to the authorities, after which he’d be subject to a tribunal for his crimes. You, Steve, and Bucky returned to the hotel where you changed into your street clothes before heading back to the jet. This time, Bucky decided to take the helm, which left you and Steve meandering through the rest of the interior. Steve eventually found his way to the holo-screen, where he fiddled, unseeing in his gaze. After some time, you carefully approached. Wordlessly, you held out one earbud in offering. He frowned slightly.

“Invested in wireless. Also decided it’d be good to have a smaller pair on hand should they come in handy. ’Course, I’m more liable to lose these, so if they go missing, know it’s your fault for talking me into buying them.”

He took in a deep breath, debating something with himself, before taking the earbud and placing it in his left ear. You put the other one in your right, and an acoustic song already in motion played softly in your ear. It was silent as the pair of you took in the steady flow of the song. Then the lyrics were speaking of falling for a boy, of eyes as blue as the skies, of the boy loving her back, and you hoped he wasn’t paying attention to the words as you made a small scramble to change the song.

“Uh, it’s on shuffle,” you said hastily.

“Don’t change it. It’s nice.”

You froze. “Oh.”

The rest of the song played with you resting a hand on the black metal table and Steve turned slightly away as he leaned back against the table and stared out the window. Then the song was ending and an energetic electronic song was suddenly blasting in your ear and you were both laughing. Lowering the volume, you pulled your earbud out just as Steve did the same.

“Thanks. I needed that.” He held the earbud out to you.

“Why?” you asked before you could think not to.

“Post-mission blues, I guess.” His smile was small but easy.

“This one was pretty straightforward, though, wasn’t it? Hardly had to lift a finger.”

It was silent as he watched you pack away your earbuds. “I wanted to hurt him when he spoke to you like that. I found myself wishing he’d talk some more just so I could.”

Your heart clenched. “I’ve gotten used to men like him. People like him.”

“Thing is, you shouldn’t have to.”

“It’s just a word,” you said, and it was all too reminiscent of the things you’d told yourself growing up in order just to make it through the world.

“ _Words_ mean things.” _And they have the ability to hurt_ , was what he left unsaid, not knowing you knew all too well the truth behind that sentiment.

“There’s no way I’d survive in this business if I didn’t develop a thick skin. I mean, yeah, I’m…soft…by nature…”

“I know.” His voice was quiet, almost sad.

You paused at that, then shrugged it off, a strange sadness falling over you. “It’s how the world works.”

He let his head drop. “The world,” he muttered with disdain.

The rest of the trip played out in relative silence with everyone sticking to their own corner, for the most part. After arriving at your apartment, you tidied up, cooked, ate, lounged around. Then you turned some music on low, plucked a book you’d been meaning to read from the shelf, and sprawled out on the couch. But the music was too distracting, so you turned it off. Then it was too quiet and you found after half an hour, you still hadn’t made it past the first two pages.

Suddenly and unexpectedly restless, you tossed the book aside and slipped into your shoes on autopilot. You wandered the halls of the floor above you without a clear sense of where you were going, and before you knew it, you’d ended up in front of Steve’s door. You raised your hand to knock. But then, by chance or by fate, the door opened.

“Steve,” you said just as he said your name in similar surprise. “I, uh, I was just coming to see you.” Then you wanted to kick yourself. Obviously, you were just coming to see him.

“Funny thing. I was just going to see you, too.” He paused before stepping back to allow room. “Come in?”

Faced with the prospect of being in his apartment alone with him, you were suddenly overcome with nerves. You’d been in once or twice, but not for long and never with just the two of you. Your nod was small as you stepped past him and into the room.

The open floor plan was much like yours, but the main difference was that his apartment was much more furnished. When you first saw it, you’d expected it to be bare, sparsely decorated, hardly lived in, but you were shocked to find that it was warm and cozy and inviting. There was clutter, but the comforting kind—books laid out on the oak coffee table, stacks of paper with charcoal scribblings next to various kinds of pencils on the kitchen table, a box of knick-knacks on the floor next to the couch. There were two bookcases. Next to the flatscreen was the taller and wider industrial one, whose books were well-worn at the spine. Along the wall facing the entrance was the shorter maple one, and above it, the vintage black and white photo of the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Tea?” he asked from the kitchen counter.

“Sure. Thanks.”

The clinking and rustling continued behind you as you perused the items on the shelves. There were books and vinyls and little trinkets he’d placed in between. There were few framed photos, but the ones he did have made you smile wistfully. There was a shot of a waterfall he must’ve taken personally, one of him and Bucky at the lake, then him and Sam at a cookout, and then—

The air was sucked out of your lungs.

In the corner of the middle shelf, presented at a slight angle, was a polaroid. There were other people in the photo, almost like its purpose was to throw off the scent for curious onlookers, but in the center, impossible to ignore, were you and Steve.

You remembered the moment with perfect clarity. It was a team movie night about a month ago and a horror movie had been chosen. You’d ended up sitting next to Steve and you had one of the throw pillows up to shield you from a full view of the screen. Then a horrible jump scare played out and you’d practically leapt ten feet in the air while Steve burst into laughter beside you in a guileless, carefree display with the smile you liked so much. Still reeling from the scare, you’d whacked him with the pillow, and he’d only continued laughing as he grabbed the other end of the pillow as if to commence a small game of tug of war while some of the others laughed along and others shushed you. The camera had been passed around earlier in the evening with no real thought, so you had no idea who’d thought to snap a picture at that exact moment.

It’d been ten seconds of your lives, ten seconds you thought you’d treasured on your own, in secret. But there it was on his bookshelf, you and him laughing as you both held on tight to the pillow, for all the world to see.

Your hand was curled against your chest when you turned around. And when you turned around, Steve was there. He looked a bit withdrawn, and terribly uncertain, and there was no doubt he knew what you’d been looking at. He handed you the tea wordlessly before moving to the couch. With great effort, you followed. He was sifting through the books on the table when you took a seat at the other end of the couch.

“I’ve been into science fiction a lot lately,” he said. “Arthur C. Clarke, Ursula Guinn. I just started some of Octavia Butler’s stuff, too.”

“I love science fiction.”

“I’d hope so. We’re practically living it, aren’t we?” He smirked.

You watched as he slowly flipped through the pages. When he spoke next, his eyes were still cast down.

“You know, what you said on the jet, about you being soft…” A rush of breath left him as he decided to barrel on. “I think it’s a good thing. Being soft? Having a heart?”

“I’m hardly the only one around here to have a heart.”

“No, but…you’re different.”

You fumbled for words. “I’m just the same as everyone else. I’m no one in the crowd.”

“Are you kidding? It’s the exact opposite.” He sounded so firm, so incredulous that you could even think otherwise. “You’re…sweet.”

“Naive, you mean.”

He gave you a sheepish look to soften the blow. “Maybe a little.”

“Hey, look, I’m not some doe-eyed thing new to the world,” you said defensively.

He chuckled. “Easy, easy, I know—I _know_ you’re not. I’m just saying there’s no reason for you to be hung up on it. If you are. Sometimes it’s not a bad thing.”

“It is in our world. I told you I had to learn to develop a thick skin and I wasn’t kidding.”

“Still, I like that about you. If everyone went through the world constantly expecting to be screwed over, accepting things the way they are just because it’s ‘the way the world works’ and we just grow numb to it, how would anything ever change?”

“You can be realistic about the world without being a total grinch. Doesn’t mean you’re lost to the halls of cynicism forever.”

“I know.”

“You’re doing pretty well yourself, you know.” You watched his brow pinch in confusion and it was incredibly endearing. You’d already told him once how you admired the way he handled everything thrown at him and you’d meant it.

It was quiet as you sipped your tea and he flipped through the pages. You had no idea what he’d been going over to see you about, and though you had no concrete idea of what you’d gone to see him for either, you had a tiny hunch.

You wet your dry lips. “There’s this one book I really like by Carl Sagan.” You spoke with uncertainty and looked to him to gauge whether or not he was familiar with the name.

“I’m unfamiliar.”

“He was an astronomer, cosmologist, all that stuff, and a famous science communicator. He died in the ’90s, though. He wrote this book where this scientist basically helps discover a radio signal from an advanced alien civilization and the humans build this huge machine with instructions the aliens gave, and she uses it to travel through a wormhole to find what’s on the other side.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It is. It’s a really beautiful book. A lot of the technical science stuff went over my head, though.” He chuckled. “The protagonist sees herself as this very rational religious skeptic, and she meets this theologian who sort of challenges her beliefs, and she does his. It’s a really interesting connection and, well, probably not all that expected to last in the real world, in some people’s view.”

“Do they end up together?”

“Well, you’ll have to find that out for yourself. There’s a movie, too, you know, and I think you’d really like it.”

“Well, looks like you’ll have to show it to me sometime.”

You bit your lip to hide the burgeoning smile.

“Listen,” he said carefully, and you tried not to appear too still as you hung onto his every word. “About…you know. That one day. I was a little harsh. I didn’t mean to say you think you know better than me.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“It’s just, sometimes it gets too easy to pretend I don’t need anyone, that it’s better to just be alone. Less complicated. So, when folks keep hounding me about finding a date, it gets incredibly frustrating, as you can imagine.”

“Yeah, I can.”

"But then I got to know you and—well, it all went downhill from there. I thought maybe you might’ve felt the same way, or I hoped. But you kept bringing up Sharon and asking about us and it just confused me, I guess. So, I chalked it up to wishful thinking, and it didn’t exactly help seeing Agent Metzler constantly sniffing around.”

You snorted. “Sniffing around?”

He brushed it off, a small smile playing at his lips. “I know, I know, you’re just friends. But so are me and Sharon.”

You chewed on your lip, letting it all sink in. “And Steve…I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making you feel like a—an idea. An ideal. Something people can just project their ideals on.”

His breath left his nose in a soft chuckle. “You don’t, though.”

His gaze was tender as it remained fixed on you, and it was quiet again, the kind where both parties were unsure how to proceed. You debated taking his hand then, but then his phone went off and he was grabbing it from the table to read the message.

He sighed. “They need me at the compound.”

“Something happen?”

“Didn’t say. Might just need my assistance with something.” He locked the phone and stared at the black screen.

“But we just got back. Like, literally today.”

“Well, you know how this works,” he said absently. Then he turned to you.

“I know, I know. No need to kick me out, I’m goin’.”

“No, I was just going to say…thanks.”

You were dumbfounded. “What for?”

“For knocking some sense into me.”

Though you were still confused, you did as he asked and waited while he disappeared into the bedroom. He came back out with his duffel bag and beckoned for you to walk with him. You entered the elevator together, and it remained silent as you were taken one floor down. Far too soon for your liking, the doors were opening and Steve was putting one hand on the door’s edge. When you turned to look at him, he was already looking back.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked with a heart-tugging degree of apprehension, and in that moment, you were easily able to picture him as he was before, the small, scrawny guy too scrappy for his own good.

You nodded, voice soft. “Yeah.”

He nodded, too, and let his hand drop. Taking measured steps toward your door, you resisted the urge to glance back. The elevator closed smoothly behind you, where it would deliver Steve to the ground floor so he could embark on his next mission or do whatever it was that was needed of him.

You entered your apartment feeling strangely light, and found yourself hoping later would come rather soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I end things with the elevator far too much lolz. And I think we're getting close to the end now, my friends. Maybe next chapter will be the last? Not entirely sure yet.
> 
> The song they listen to is the one I mentioned in the previous chapter's notes, and the book mentioned is Contact by Carl Sagan. It's one of my faves, so I highly recommend a read, and I recommend the 1997 movie with Jodie Foster and Matthew McConaughey as well. They differ from each other in many ways, as is typical for books and their film adaptations, but both are extremely dear to my heart.
> 
> Lastly, something I'm highly interested in knowing your thoughts on: how do you feel about certain POVs for reader fics? I think it's safe to say most, if not all, of us can agree that 2nd person is the default, but how do you feel about 1st person? I find that sometimes fics (such as several of my WIPs) just flow better with the use of 1st person, but if something about it puts enough people off for whatever reason, it's really not that big a deal for me to switch to 2nd. (I'm omitting the option of 3rd person here because I generally don't write reader fics in 3rd, personally.)
> 
> I look forward to your thoughts! And as always, thanks for reading! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!

Later didn’t come as soon as you’d hoped.

It was two and a half weeks since Steve had left. They’d needed his help, something about following a long-awaited lead across Siberia, and in the weeks that followed his departure, you became aware of a distinct but not altogether unpleasant sensation, something simmering beneath your skin, an unprecedented pent-up energy. It was a restlessness, a need to expel something— _do_ something—born from your last meeting with him.

Something was on the horizon, you felt. And the rush you could feel in your very bones, the fluttering feeling in your stomach too exhilarating to simply be deemed butterflies initially left you at a loss as to how to contain it.

So, you decided not to. Instead, you saw fit to channel it and hit the gym. It was a private location, only a few floors away, designated for the team or any S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel who happened to visit the building. You’d already worked on strength training earlier in the week and decided today was a cardio kind of day.

You’d never been a natural long-distance runner, but as you ran on the treadmill in the empty room, breaths coming out in harsh but steady pants, you found yourself in relatively high spirits. On one of the flatscreens, some show played, and along the far wall, the rain beat steadily against the row of floor-length windows, battling with the overhead lights to cast a gray glow over the room.

At last, you were able to come to a stop when you managed to reach your goal of total running time. You were out of breath, legs burning, skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat, but that didn’t stop you from wandering over to the windows, downing your water as you went, with the gait that came after a satisfying workout. You stared out the window, looking out at the nearby buildings and their lit up windows, and looked down at the street, where people walked and drove and honked and went about their lives. It was nearing dusk, and as such, the light in the sky was already quickly fading, and the rainclouds served only to further darken the air. But the effect was far from dreary.

You were broken from your reverie when the gym door opened all the way across the room. Natasha poked her head in before coming in to stand by the door.

“Thought I might find you here. You’ve been hitting the gym a lot more lately.”

“Gotta fill the days, right?”

“You get my text?”

You looked over to where your phone was lying in the middle of a pile of fresh clothes in your gym bag. “Oh, no, left my phone in my bag, sorry.”

“I was just saying Barnes and I are going to go out to grab a bite to eat. Want to come?”

“Sure, just let me shower real quick.”

“Let us know when you’re ready.”

Rubbing the back of your neck, you nodded before she was on her way out. After freshening up, you met her and Bucky down in the lobby before you were on your way to a diner a couple of blocks away. Once seated at a window booth, you fiddled with the pepper shaker as the other two looked over their menus.

“You’re doing it again,” said Bucky.

“What?”

“Fidgeting.”

“People fidget, Bucky.”

“This is a different kind.” He set the menu down and clasped his hands on the table, giving you his full attention.

“Lay off her, Barnes. She’s just anxious to have a certain best buddy of yours come home.” Natasha graced you with a knowing look and, with it, her support.

He snorted softly like he found the whole thing only mildly amusing. “What, you mean you two finally got your act together?”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning and willed your face not to surrender to the flames under his stare. “I don’t know. Too soon to say. But…I feel…good.”

His straw wrapper flew across the short distance to land in front of you. “Well, here. Knock yourself out.”

You rolled your eyes and crumpled up the wrapper before tossing it at him. “Ok, Bucky.”

You soon ordered and passed the time with more chit-chat concerning nothing of dire consequence. It felt good not to have something immediately pressing on your mind, nothing that would require you to drop everything at a moment’s notice. You enjoyed good food and good company.

The rest of the evening passed by in a similarly leisurely fashion. You parted ways with Bucky and Natasha after dinner and took a solo walk down the city blocks, finding an uncharacteristic bounce in your step as you twirled the umbrella around in your hand, the rain continuing its steady drizzle all around.

The next day was a whirlwind, taken up by meeting after meeting at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. branch in the city. After your second to last one, you crossed paths with Tony in the hall just as you stepped through the glass door of the conference room.

“Ah. Sight for sore eyes, aren’t you?” he said.

“How’s it going?”

“The usual. Folks jabbering on about nanotech and molecular self-assembly like they have any clue what they’re talking about.” He rolled his eyes. “You almost done here?”

“Just one more. I’m absolutely starving.”

“Well, hold out just a little longer. There’ll be plenty of fancy finger foods to stuff yourself with at the party tonight.”

You groaned in anticipation.

“What, is that mild excitement I hear? For a party of mine? Wow, Capsicle’s been real good for you, huh?”

“Wh—you—ugh—”

“Never woulda happened if I hadn’t forced you to take those pictures with him, though, am I right? Can I get some of the credit at the wedding? Possibly make a toast? I’m real good at those.”

“Nothing’s happened yet, Tony,” you said in a flat voice.

“Right, ‘yet’ being the operative word there. Anyway, think you could maybe hold off on something ‘happening,’ though, till, I dunno, next week or something?”

“Why?” you asked suspiciously.

“There may or may not be a pool going around on when The Smooch is finally going to happen, and I’d rather not lose the cash I’ve just started keeping on me. I rather like buying churros the old-fashioned way, turns out.”

“You…are impossible, Tony.”

He simply grinned. After a quick tap to your arm with the rolled up papers in his hand, he threw over his shoulder, “See ya tonight!” as he headed for the elevator, leaving you to shake your head as you started in the opposite direction to get to your next meeting.

The afternoon passed in a dull haze and, finally, you were afforded a breather in the distinct form of a Stark celebration. Night came and the penthouse was swept up in revelry once again. All around, people chatted and laughed and sipped their drinks as ambient music played in the background. You wandered from group to group, feeling more comfortable going around greeting Tony’s friends and associates, socialites and the like, now that their faces were more familiar and you were feeling quite convivial. You spent a fair amount of time in a circle with a number of other agents as they regaled tales of being out in the field.

You were laughing along at one particular retelling of a wall-scaling gone wrong when, by chance, you caught the eye of Jack, who stood leaning against the bar. He raised his glass towards you. Excusing yourself from the group, you made your way over.

“What’re you doing standing here all by yourself? Taking a leaf from my book?”

“Ha. The look probably suits you much better—uh, by that, I mean you pull it off much better, not that I think you’re a…”

“Loser,” you finished for him and chuckled. “Relax, I know what you mean.”

“So much pressure to be constantly ‘on’ at these things, huh?”

“That’s why I’m often found at the bar by myself. Even if I’m not drinking, it at least looks like I’m busy.”

He nodded in the way one does when commiserating. “So, how you been lately? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Oh, you know, the usual—jetting around the globe once in a while to dash the dreams of some loon hell-bent on destroying the world. Also, sleep.” He laughed. “How’re things over in comms? Pay your dues yet?”

“Eh, it’s a little better. Turns out the people aren’t so bad, after all.” He surveyed the room. “Never thought I’d say it, but I think this little ol’ town might finally be starting to grow on me.”

Your answering smile was warm. “I’m glad.”

The night went on and the party showed no signs of stopping. At some point, you landed in front of the expansive floor-length windows, vast in the view they offered of the cityscape at night. You listened as someone helped themselves to the nearby piano, from which a gentle, flowing tune reminiscent of dreams and rain showers floated across the space, mingling in its subdued power with the livelier music carrying from the speakers.

“I wish I could play piano like that.”

You turned and, to your surprise, found Sharon beside you. “Agent Carter—Sharon.”

“How are you?”

“Ah—fine. How are you?”

Her smile as she ducked her head struck you as oddly knowing. “I’m ok. I just thought I’d come say hey.”

“Oh.”

“Gorgeous night, right?” She indicated to the window.

“As always.” Your imperceptible sigh was near dreamy.

“Between you and me, sometimes I miss being stationed here. Don’t get me wrong, I love getting to see new places, but the energy here…there’s nothing quite like it.”

“Where are you from?”

“Virginia. Richmond, originally. I haven’t been back in a while, though. I’ve been meaning to visit my folks.”

“I’m sure they miss you.”

“Don’t all good parents?”

“So, how do they feel about you going all around the world, doing your thing and taking down all the bad guys?”

She gave you a sardonic look. “Not all of them. You make it sound so glamorous. But they’re ok with it. Now, at least. To be honest, they have no choice but to accept it. But I think they always knew this was the path I was headed down. It can be a dangerous gig, I get that, of course. Any parent would be worried, right? How about you? Any family out there giving you a hard time for your _stubbornly_ -made life choices?”

A breath of amusement escaped through your nose. “Yeah, they’re out there. They’ve grudgingly come to tolerate it, I think. They don’t really get this whole thing, you know? I mean, they _know_ , but they don’t really get it. I mean, I get it, though. It’s this whole weird world and they’re so far removed from it. It’s the kind of stuff you see in movies, you know? Not the thing you have any sort of actual connection to. And then there’s the whole having your daughter be constantly put in situations that are more or less life-and-death…so, yeah. Long story short: they’re worrywarts.” You let out an exasperated huff and shook your head. “It drove me _insane_ when I was younger.”

“Oh, trust me, you and me both.”

You shared a laugh. “I talk to them when I can, though, try to keep up with things. It gets real easy to miss them.”

She nodded gently. “Yeah, it does.”

It was a comfortable silence as you both shifted to gaze out the window. Sharon swirled the liquid around in her glass.

“You ever get lonely, though?” she asked.

You remained silent. Until finally, you admitted, “Yeah.”

“Kind of counterintuitive, isn’t it, when there are over a million people on this island alone. You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard to make friends. I try to bury myself in work so I don’t have time to think about that sort of _nonsense_.” She shot you a look that said she thought the notion was anything but. “My parents don’t outright say it, but I know they wonder when I’m gonna meet a nice man, settle down.”

Against your will, images of Steve and Sharon together flashed through your mind’s eye, though they no longer filled you with that keen ache. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know. You think I’d know by now, but…I don’t know, I’m still so young. I have time, right?”

“Maybe there’s not a timeline for these sorts of things.”

She nodded to herself. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” Then, looking down, she said, “You know, a lot of people assume Steve and I are together.”

“…Oh.”

“You did, too, didn’t you?”

“I…”

Her smile was placating. “It’s ok. It’s not exactly the worst thing in the world, being paired up with Steve. But no, he and I—tried, I guess, just to see, but it just wasn’t…right. We’re much better suited as friends. It never would’ve worked anyway. It’s almost like he’s got his heart set on someone else or something.”

She said that last part lightly, casually, but with your lips parted delicately in shock, breath faltered, you chanced a glance at her reflection and noted the knowing, intelligent look in her eye.

Swiveling to face you, she jerked her head somewhere to her left. “Unfortunately, I have to go and make sure Agent Soo over there doesn’t get a hold of the mic. I’ve heard her speeches before and she’s a notorious rambler, even when sober.”

“Oh, um—”

She put a hand on your arm. “We should meet up, get coffee next time I’m in town?”

“Uh—” You eventually nodded, still unable to process what had just occurred.

She smiled gently, and there was no way it was anything but genuine. “Great. It was really good seeing you.”

“You, too.”

You watched her smooth retreat and saw that one Agent Soo was, in fact, gunning for the microphone stand on the small platform off to the side of the room. It was a while before you managed to turn back to the window, unseeing in your gaze as the light show gleamed before you in a dazzling display. The soothing sounds of the piano continued somewhere behind you.

So. Sharon knew.

It was a wonder you were even the least bit surprised. You wanted to shake your head at yourself, both in a strange sort of gaiety and at your own idiocy.

“You’ll burn a hole through the glass if you stare any harder.”

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart stopped. Steve.

Looking up, you saw his reflection over your shoulder and whipped around to face him. He had on charcoal gray slacks and a navy and white checkered dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms just like you liked. On his face was that expression he wore so often that was uniquely him, the one that spoke of understated mirth and soft affection for whomever was lucky enough to be on the receiving end.

“Steve—you’re back.” Your voice came out slightly breathy and unguarded. “I-I didn’t know you’d be coming back today.”

“Surprise for you and me both.”

You looked him over more conspicuously, but only briefly so as not to give away too much of the fluttering feeling you could feel rising from your stomach to lodge itself in your chest, somewhere past your ribcage. “You changed.”

“It is a party.”

“You didn’t have to show up. You must be exhausted.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Super soldier.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ok, Mr. Invincible.”

He wet his lips and smiled, crooked and boyish, as his gaze fell to the floor where he scuffed the sole of his shoe. He blinked, eyes flickering back up in that slow, unwittingly sensual manner he did so well, and the tender adoration in them was too much for you to bear. “As it turns out, I’m here to see about something.”

You held your breath. “Oh? And what is that?”

He debated something with himself, but only briefly. Then he reached out and had his hand coming down on your wrist. In an instant, the butterflies in your stomach flew over to that single point of contact and let themselves be known through the thumping of your pulse, and goosebumps erupted all across your skin. It was a phantom touch, chaste and innocent, yet capable of setting your every nerve on fire.

His fingertips glided gently down your wrist, sliding, tickling the edges of your palm until his hand slipped fully over yours. You stared at it.

“Walk with me?”

As if you could do anything else.

He pulled you along until you reached his side, and you were vaguely aware of the sets of eyes that occasionally landed on the pair of you as you walked through the room hand in hand. They were curious glances, naturally, but, in the end, harmless. And, you found, even if you got the impression that they were something more, you wouldn’t have cared.

Upon entering the elevator, you turned and spied Natasha across the room holding out her hand with a smug look on her face as Tony rolled his eyes and slapped a bill of cash into her hand. You glanced at Steve just as the doors closed and saw that he’d witnessed the same thing, and together, you laughed.

His hand remained around yours, even as you endured the ride in charged silence and stepped out to arrive at his door. When you entered, you trailed behind a bit, suddenly and obscenely aware of the heavy rabbiting in your chest, how quiet and shallow your breaths were as though anything louder would break the spell.

Silently, patiently, Steve watched you take in your surroundings. Then his hand squeezed yours. “Like something to drink?”

You thought maybe you were so nervous it wasn’t a good idea to have something as fragile as glass between your fingertips, but then you decided it might be good to have something to occupy your hands. “You don’t have to wait on me every time I come here, Steve,” you teased.

He backed away until his hand slipped from yours. “I’m being a good host.”

You debated on following him to the kitchen, but then settled on wandering around the living room instead. You looked over the same books and vinyls and trinkets you had before, and when your gaze inevitably landed on the picture of you and him laughing, you felt an intense frisson of nervous excitement wash over you. It warmed you from head to toe.

“That was one of my favorite movie nights.”

You turned at the sound of his voice. He was so close.

“I finally ended up next to you.”

You accepted the lemonade he held out. “What, was there some sort of lotto determining who got to sit next to me every movie night? I’m flattered.”

He laughed freely and rubbed the back of his neck. “No. No. I was…I was just glad to have your attention for a little while. Aaand now, I am officially twelve years old.”

You laughed in disbelief. “My attention? Are you kidding? That’s _all_ you had.”

The smile on his face lessened gradually in favor of those darkening eyes, his unmitigated focus entirely on you. “That right?”

You were unable to hold his stare for too long. “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t. You know I didn’t.”

“Anyway, I probably won that contest, you know. Of being the more hopeless and pathetic one between the two of us.” He quirked his brow in adorable confusion. Shyly, you told him, “Come on. It’s embarrassing how long I’ve liked you, Steve.”

He stared at you for a moment, then huffed out a breath of laughter. “If that’s what you are, I don’t even want to know what I am.” He bit his lip and jerked his head at the photo. “Now, be honest, am I a creep for having that picture? I’m a total creep, aren’t I?”

You pretended to think it over. “Eh…”

“Knew it. It’s totally creepy, isn’t it?”

Laughing, you rested a hand on his chest without any thought and delighted in its firmness. “Steve, I’m kidding. Trust me, you’re the _least_ creepy guy I know.”

He reached up to cover your hand with his and intertwined your fingers together. “Not exactly the most flattering standard to be measured by.”

The distance was somehow shorter between you and him and you didn’t know if you’d stepped closer or if he had. “Come up with a new one, then.”

The air had become thick. You were close enough that his cool breath tickled your exposed skin. He slipped the glass from your hand and placed it on an empty spot on the bookshelf. You were going to tease him about fetching you the drink only to take it right back from you, but then his hands were on your waist, his touch searing you through your clothing. His thumbs dug into and caressed the flesh, and he pulled you closer, closer, until the tips of your shoes bumped his.

The black of his pupils had eaten up the blue so that there was only a thin ring left. His gaze flickered to your lips, where it lingered for a moment of eternity until you were positive you couldn’t take it anymore. Then he slowly brought his head down, face drawing closer with every inch, and you waited with bated breath, eyes fluttering shut in heady anticipation.

But then his forehead came to rest on yours, and he was speaking.

“I don’t care who the world thinks I end up with. I don’t care about them. I care about you. I want you. Stories be damned.”

Heart twisting, you opened your eyes halfway to be greeted by the sweet sight of him closer than he’d ever been before. His eyes, closed, and his lashes, thick as they swept over his cheeks. His nostrils, slightly flared and his jaw, taut. His lips, pink and soft and inviting, and so, so close. Meanwhile, his thumbs ran over your waist with another heated stroke. Your eyes fell shut once again as you spoke.

“I just…I couldn’t fathom the thought that you’d be interested in someone like me. I convinced myself that it was someone else you wanted, that it would always be someone else somewhere down the road. Never me.” It was easier to admit when you didn’t have to look at him.

He whispered your name so tenderly that you knew this moment would become an indelible memory, an impression so lasting and true that it would be forever written into your genetic code. He brushed his thumb across your cheek. “Like I said before, you can be really dense sometimes.”

You could feel his forehead rocking lightly against yours and you knew he was shaking his head. He spoke your name again and said:

“I choose you.”

The stark admission had you lowering your head until your forehead bumped his nose, but then you felt his fingers on your chin as he tilted your gaze back up. He looked at you then, eyes flitting back and forth between yours. He drew closer until one pair of lips hovered just over the other, shallow breaths mingling.

When he didn’t close the gap, you took the painstaking move to inch that much closer until your nose brushed his. A soft plead.

At that—at last—he answered. He moved in.

And he kissed you.

He kissed you sweetly and dearly, lips so soft in their first tentative press, then firm and insistent in the way they pressed down to capture yours more resolutely.

You couldn’t believe it was happening. But there it was. For too long, you’d concerned yourself with who Captain America ended up with, who stood beside him in those pictures and stories. But it didn’t matter in the least. It was Steve, and no one else, who stood before you now. And he chose you.

His hand came up to cup your cheek as he angled his face to deepen the kiss. You met him with equal fervor, and together, you poured into each other the rich, golden outcome of the lingering looks and touches like the steady flow of water did into an empty glass.

After some time—you didn’t know when—you drew apart, reluctantly and naturally, your top lip catching on his bottom and sweeping away until it lost all contact. Lips tingling, you felt utterly branded, and you took a look at his mouth to see it somehow looked the same.

You let out a light, shaky breath. “I choose you, too, you know, if you were still wondering.”

His lips pulled back into a beautiful, fond smile, and his eyes shone with warmth. “Good to know.”

And with that, he came in for another kiss.

  


* * *

  


“Alright, get in here, will you, Pep? I’m sure it’s fine.” Tony waved her over.

“No, I’m just—hold on, I’m making sure it’s actually on.” She fiddled with the camera on the tripod with pinched eyebrows. “Ok, I think I got it. Wait—no.” Several members of the group groaned. “Ok, I got it.”

She hustled over to the group as Sam said quietly to no one in particular, “How does she run a multi-billion dollar company and not know how to operate the self-timer function on a camera?”

Tony cajoled everyone into squeezing in to fit the frame. “Alright, bring it in, folks. Come on, cozy up. I know we’re all complete strangers here, but no one’s gettin’ cut out of the photo on my watch.”

Everyone huddled even closer around the white sofa. Some sat on the sofa itself, while others were casually perched on the arms, standing behind it, or leaning forward against the back of it. You sat at the far end of the cushions, leaning to your side and resting an elbow on the arm. Right beside you on the arm sat Steve, angled towards the camera with arms crossed, and thigh touching your elbow.

Everyone was relaxed and posing casually, waiting for the self-timer to drop before the shutter went off. You waited at least eight seconds.

“Is it on?” Natasha asked.

“It should be,” Pepper said.

“Shouldn’t there be a light or something? Something flashing?” Clint said.

“Oh, no, I think you’re right.”

Another chorus of groans echoed out.

“We’ve been at this for, like, fifteen minutes.”

“This single shot really worth it?”

Pepper hopped off the couch to scurry over to the tripod. “Calm down, everyone, I got this.”

“No one’s gonna mind if I just enjoy this meatball sub in the meantime.”

Amid the chatter, you scratched your head and exchanged an amused, albeit long-suffering, glance with Steve.

_Snap._

Everyone looked at the camera.

“Oops.”

Then they turned to Wanda to see the red currents of her magic flowing at her fingertips and an all too innocent look on her face.

Later, as the others hung back out at the couch, you stood at the picture board next to Steve and pinned up the freshly-taken photo. You shrugged as you examined it. “Well. That’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Missing some people, though.”

“I know. Thor and Bruce need to get their asses back, wherever they are, before we start to feel neglected.”

“Hey. Lovebirds.”

You and Steve turned to find Sam addressing you from the couch.

“It’s trivia or Mafia and y’all haven’t voted.”

You leaned into Steve. “Do we really have to stay here? We can’t just go back to my place or something? Or yours?”

He caressed your hip. “Team building, babe.”

“And the aliens we punch together aren’t enough for that?”

His intimate laugh was music to your ears as he pulled you in by the waist. “We’ll have the rest of the night to ourselves. I promise.” Then he swooped in for a kiss.

Clint let out a disgusted noise. “Get a room.” Then added, “Called it, though.”

You pulled Steve over to the couch, leaving the picture board and its contents behind. In its latest addition, Pepper was midway to the camera with an arm reached out and Clint was stuffing his mouth with a meatball sub. Everyone else was similarly unprepared, looking away or in the middle of a sentence that was most likely a complaint. Wanda, on the other hand, stood at the back of the couch with the tiniest of smirks edging at her lips. And off to the side, you were scratching your head and looking up at Steve as he gave you a lightly exasperated look in return.

The photo told its own story. A single moment in time. No sense of would-be or should-be within its two-dimensional parameters, no predetermined sense of who and what and why.

You had your own story, too, you knew. It would go on, and sometimes it would stall.

And it was all yours to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're finally together! Who saw that coming, right?
> 
> A big thank you and much love to everyone reading! I started this silly story on a whim two or so years ago purely for myself, like most of my fics, and I had absolutely no idea where I was going with it and just left it alone for the longest time. Truthfully, multiple-chapter stories are pretty difficult for me -- I usually have the _ideas_ in my head but no clue how to execute them (I’m always tryin’, though). But thanks to the kind words and wonderful comments from a bunch of lovely folk, I was motivated enough to see this through (although I swear I was going to spontaneously combust if I had to stare at this chapter's words on the screen for another second haha). It still makes me slightly nervous that there are actual people out there reading this thing, and just the thought of it when I _really_ think about it is insane, but the reward has truly been immense. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.  <3


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